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ETC. Eia 





FEOM 1540 TO 1650. 


BY J. HANNAH D. 0. L. 






1 ^vvwojc. inx^ 









Appendix to Introduction, A. Early Extracts 
on Raleigh's Poetry and Life. 

I. The Critics xxi 

II. Edmund Spenser .... zxii 

II T. Lampoons on Raleigh . . . xxiv 

IV. Answers to *« The Lie " . . . xxvl 

v. The Reaction after h^ Death . . xxviii 

Appendix to Introda^ion, B. List of Poems 

wrongly ascribeino Raleigh . . . xxx 

The Poems op Sib Walter Raleigh now first Col- 
lected AND Authenticated. 

I. Walter Rawely of the Middle Temple in com- 
mendation of the Steel Glass ; 1576 . . 3 

u. The Excuse, written by Sir Walter Raleigh in his 

younger years 4 

III. An Epitaph upon the Right Honourable Sir Philip 
Sidney, Knight, Lord Governor of Flushing ; 
1586 5 

ly. A Vision upon this Conceit of the Fairy Queen ; 

1690 8 

v. Another of the same ; 1590 .... 9 

VI. Reply to Marlowe : — 

1. Marlowe's Song; The Passionate Shepherd 

to his Love; before 1593 . . . .10 

2. Raleigh's Reply; before 1599 . . .11 
TIL Like Hermit poor; before 1593 . . .12 

VIII. Farewell to the Court; before 1593 . . .13 

?i coNTEirrs. 


IT. The Advice • • 14 

X. In the Grace of Wit, of Tongue, and Face ; 

before 1593 15 

XI. Fun would I, bat I dare not . • . 16 
XII. Sir Walter Raleigh to his Son . • .18 

xm. On the Cards and Dice 19 

XIV. The Silent Lover 20 

xv. A Poesy to prove Affection is not Love ; before 

1602 22 

XYi. The Lie ; certainly before 1608 ; possibly before 

1596 23 

xvn. Sir Walter Baleigh*8 Pilgrimage; circ. 1603? 27 

xvni. What is our Life? The play of passion . . 29 

XIX. To the Translator of Lncan ; 1614 . . 30 
XX. Continuation of the lost poem, Cynthia ; now 
first published from the Hatfield MSS.; 

1604-1618? 31 

XXI. Sir Walter Raleigh's Petition to Queen Anne 

of Denmark; 1618 52 

zxn. Sir Walter Raleigh's Verses found in his Bible 

in the Gate-house at Westminster; 1618 . 54 
xxm. Fragments and Epigrams : — 

1. From Fuller's Worthies ... 55 

2. Riddle on Noel 55 

3, 4. Two Quotations from Puttenham ; 1589 56 

5. Epitaph on the Earl of Leicester; 1588 . 56 

6. EpiUph on the Earl of'Balisbury ; 1612 56 

7. A Poem put into my Lady Laiton's pocket 57 

8. Sir W. Raleigh on the Snuff of a Candle 

theNight before he died; 1618 . . 57 
XXIY. Metrical Translations occurring in Sir W. 

Raleigh's History of the Worid, 1614 . 58 

xxv-xxx. Six Poems ascribed to Raleigh on less 

conclusive evidence : — 
XXV. No Pleasure without Pain ; before 1576 . 76 

XXVL The Shepherd's Praise of his Sacred Diana; 

before 1593 77 

xxvii. The Shepherd's Description of Love; before 

1600 [read 1593] 78 

zxvni. As yon came from the Holy Land . . 80 

XXIX. Shall I, like an hermit, dwell . . . 82 
To his singular friend, William Litbgow; 1618 83 



Poems faom RELiQULas Wottonianje, 1651-1685, 

WITH SoMB Additions. 

I. A Poem written by Sir Henry Wotton in his 

yoath; before 1602 87 

n. Sir Henry Wotton and Serjeant Hoskins riding 

on the way 88 

in. The Character of a Happy Life. By Sir H. 

Wotton; circ. 1614 89 

IV. This Hymn was made by Sir H. Wotton when 
he was an Ambassador at Venice, in the time 
of a great sickness there . . . .91 
V. Upon the Sudden Restraint of the Earl of So- 
merset then falling from favour. By Sir H. 

Wotton; 1615 93 

yi. To a Noble Friend in his Sickness. By Sir H. 

Wotton 94 

YU. On his Mistress the Queen of Bohemia. By Sir 

H. Wotton; ctrc. 1620 .... 95 
ym. Tears at the Grave of Sir Albertus Morton, wept 

by Sir H. Wotton; 1626 .... 96 
IX. Upon the Death of Sir A. Morton*s Wife. By 

Sir H. Wotton; 1627 .... 98 

X. A short Hymn upon the Birth of Prince Charles. 

By Sir H. Wotton ; 1630 . . . .98 
XI. An Ode to the King, at his returning from 
Scotland to the Queen, after his coronation 
there. By Sir H. Wotton; 1633. . . 99 
xn. On a Bank as I sat a-Fishing. By Sir H. Wot- 
ton; circ. 1638 101 

xm. A Translation of the civ« Psalm to the original 

sense. By Sir H. Wotton ... 102 

XIV. A Hynm to my God in a night of my late sick- 
ness. By Sir H. Wotton; 1638 oV 1639 . 105 
XV. To the rarely Accomplished, and worthy of 
best employment, Master Howell, upon his 
Vocal Forest. By Sir H. Wotton ; 1639 . 106 
XVI. A Description of the Country's Recreations. 

Author uncertain 106 

XVII. A Farewell to the Vanities of the World. Author 

uncertain ....... 109 






XXIX. A Sonnet prefixed to his Majesty's Instnic< 
tions to his dearest Son, Henry the Prince. 

By King James 1 182 

XXX. Verses addressed to King James I. by Sir 

Arthur Gorges; Jan. 1, 1609-10 . . 183 
XXXI. Three Epitaphs on Prince Henry; died Nov. 

6, 1612 183 

XXXII* The Mind of the Frontispiece to Raleigh's 
History of the World. By Ben Jonson ; 

1614 186 

XXXIII. To the King, Charles I. By George Sandys ; 

bom 1577, died 1644 .... 187 
xxxrv. Deo Opt. Max. By George Sandys . .186 
xxxY. A Hymn to my Redeemer. By George 

Sandys 191 

XXXYI. Lord Strafford's Meditations in the Tower. 

Author unknown ; 1641 . . . 192 

XXXYII. Majesty in Misery ; or an Imploration to 
the King of Kings. Written by his late 
Majesty King Charles I., daring his cap- 
tivity at Carisbrook Castle, 1648 . .195 
XXXVIII. The Liberty of the Imprisoned Royalist. By 

Sir Roger L'Estrange .... 199 
XXXTX. An excellent New Ballad, to the tune of 
•* I'll never love thee more." By James, 
Marquis of Montrose; bom 1612, died 

1650 203 

XL. Unhappy is the Man. By James, Marquis 

of Montrose 205 

XLI. Mottoes and Ejaculations. By James, 
Marquis of Montrose. 

1. On CsBsar's Commentaries . . . 206 

2. On Quintus Curtius .... 206 
8. Upon the Death of King Charles L . 207 
4. ** Let them bestow," &c. . . . 207 


Notes on Part 1 211 

Notes on Part II 230 

Notes on Part III 236 

Index of first lines • 255 

Index of Authors 260 


[Y chief design in publishing this small 
volume is to do an act of justice to the 
memory of Sir Walter Raleigh, whose 
poetry has been unaccountably neg- 
lected by his biographers, though it is singularly 
well-fitted to illustrate his character, while it left 
a distinct mark on the literature of a most brilliant 
age. No attempt was made during his lifetime, 
or for long afterwards, to identify or gather up 
his scattered pieces. The most important of his 
poems, "Cynthia," has long been lost. The old 
editions of his "Remains" contain only three 
short poems. The first responsible editor of his 
minor writings could only extend the number to 
nine ; and the collection admitted to the standard 
edition of his works is at once defective and re- 

It is many years since I called attention to this 
subject in a volume which was meant, in the first 
instance, to illustrate the poetry of Sir Henry 
Wotton and his friends. But as Raleigh's poems 


formed then a secondary object, my treatment of 
the question was, in many respects, imperfect ; and 
Raleigh's later biographers and critics, however 
meritorious on many higher grounds, have con- 
tinued to repeat the old mistakes, of treating as 
doubtful some of his best authenticated and most 
characteristic poems, while quoting as genuine, 
without a word of warning, the mere waife and 
strays of Elizabethan literature, which a zealous 
collector had swept together under his name. 

One is unmlling to let a youthful work remain 
unfinished, or to feel that any labour has been 
wasted by being left incomplete. I thought it 
worth while, therefore, to devote a summer's 
vacation to the renewal of long-suspended re- 
searches among those printed and manuscript 
miscellanies of the Elizabethan period which are 
preserved in our great public libraries ; and I have 
thus enabled myself to go over the subject afresh, 
and more completely, in the present volume, in 
which Raleigh takes the lead. The authentication 
of his poetry has been carefully revised and ex- 
tended; and while I have excluded all the un- 
authenticated poems from that division of the 
volume which bears his name, I have been able to 
include many genuine pieces which had found no 
previous place among his writings. 

I hope it will be thought that the careful sifting 
to which his poems have been now subjected has 
caused them to bear a far more distinct witness 
to the features of his marked yet varied character. 
At all events it ought to have the effect of giving 
more point and decisiveness to arguments rested 

• • • 


on internal evidence. In this respect, Raleigh's 
critics have scarcely been fortunate. Mr. Tytler, 
for instance^ thought the lines on Gascoigne's 
Steel Glass " below his other pieces," and unlikely 
to have '' flowed from the same sweet vein which 
produced the answer to Marlowe's Passionate 
Shepherd." But surely Raleigh's " vein " was far 
more frequently sententious than " sweet." Other 
writers have judged more correctly in accepting 
the lines as an excellent specimen of his balanced, 
grave, judicial "censure." "The style is his," 
says Mr. Kingsley; "solid, stately, epigrammatic." 
Again, Mr. Hallam said that "The lie" (called also 
"The Soul's Errand") had been ascribed to Raleigh 
** without evidence, and, we may add, without pro- 
bability." Perhaps the " probability " is more ap- 
parent now that conclusive " evidence " has been 
found. The poem seems to me to be a typical ex- 
pression of Raleigh's character; his vigour, his 
scom^ his haughty directness. Assume it to have 
been written at some moment of disgust and disap- 
pointment, and it will be seen to breathe in every 
line the pride with which he was always ready to 
confront his adversaries; yet the despondency 
with which he cried out, even during his first 
short imprisonment, that now at last his heart 
was broken ; spea et fortuna valete ! " Do with 
me now, therefore, what you list. I am more 
weary of life than they are desirous I should 
perish." (Edwards, ii. 52; July, 1592.) 

As is often the case with men of high courage 
and really sanguine temperament, Raleigh's thoughts 
were perpetually saddened by the anticipation of 


the end. No small portion of his verses might 
have hcen written, as is actually said of several 
pieces, '' the night before his death." Dismissing 
this tradition, except in the one case where it 
seems to be at once strong and probable, we shall 
find grounds for supposing that ho marked each 
crisis of his history by writing some short poem, 
in which the vanity of life is proclaimed, under an 
aspect suited to his circumstances and age. His 
first slight check occurred in 1589, when he went 
to visit Spenser in Ireland ; and more seriously a 
little later, when his secret marriage, or its dis- 
creditable preliminaries, sent him to the Tower. 
"The Lie," with its proud, indignant brevity, 
would then exactly express his angry temper. 
"The Pilgrimage" belongs more naturally to a 
time when he was smarting under the rudeness of 
the king's attorney fit his trial in 1603. Viewed 
by the light of that unrighteous prosecution, the 
I grotesque imagery which disturbs its solemn 
aspirations may remind us of the more galling of 
the annoyances from which he knew that death 
would set him free. The few lines, " Even such 
is time," mark the calm reality of the now certain 
doom ; they express the thoughts appropriate for 
the night now known to be indeed the last, when 
no room remained for bitterness or anger, in the 
contemplation of immediate and inevitable death. 
The *' Continuation of Cynthia" must have 
been written very early in his long imprison- 
ment, which lasted from December 1603 to March 
1616 ; and again in 1618 from August to October. 
The handwriting resembles that of some papers 


dated 1603 ; and the fragment could scarcely have 
found its way to Hatfield after the death of Robert^ 
Earl of Salisbury, in 1612. The internal evidence 
points in the same direction. The whole poem is 
coloured by that ruling fiction of the Elizabethan 
court, which compelled loyalty to express itself in 
the language of a lover-like devotion. No doubt 
Baleigh preserved to his last hour an unshaken 
reverence for the memory of his royal mistress. 
That stately homage is a leading feature in all his 
writings; from the time when he made her the 
standard of virtue and beauty (p. 9), in whom 
was "virtue's perfect image cast" (p. 78), for 
whose "defence we labour all" (p. 6), to the time 
when he offered his touching petition to Queen 
Anne of Denmark just before his death (p. 53) : — 

" That I and mine may never mourn the miss 
Of Her we had, but praise our living Queen." 

The author of a well-known epigram caught the 
position exactly when he exclaimed, "0 hadst 
thou served thy Heroine all thy days!" But it 
is not so easy to believe that he could have main- 
tained, to any late period of his imprisonment 
under James, that conventional form of flattery, 
which had continued welcome to the queen to 
the last. The poem contains not the slightest 
recognition of those claims on the husband and 
the father which must have strengthened their 
hold on the heart of the captive, while his loyalty 
resumed its more natural and appropriate tenor. 
The despondency of his language will not suffice 
to prove a later date, because it was his usual tone 


under every disappointment. Even as early as 
1595-6, at the height of his proud and \ngorou8 
manhood, he could write, in words which remind 
us of the very expressions of this fragment : " It 
is true that, as my errors were great, so they have 
yielded very grievous effects ; and if aught might 
have been deserved in former times to have coun- 
terpoised any part of [my] offences, the fruit thereof 
(as it seemeth) was long before /ai^/rom the tree, 
and the dead stock only remained. I did, there- 
fore, even in the winter of my life, undertake these 
travels," &c. (Epistle dedicatory to the Discovery 
of Guiana, 1596.) Through a great part of the 
piece it might be doubted whether the queen was 
really dead, or only dead to him ; t. e. whether 
the whole were not a mere exaggeration of some 
earlier disappointment. Such a notion seems to be 
incompatible with the express words of several 
passages; but we cannot suppose that the death 
of the queen was long past at the date of his 
writing, or the mere lapse of time and change of 
circumstance would have forced him to appear in 
a larger and nobler character than the conventional 
part of a disappointed suitor. 

Between fiction and figure, and the obscurity 
which hangs over an unfinished work, it is not 
easy to carry out any safe biographical interpre- 
tation. He begins by saying that his jo3's " died 
when first " his " fancy erred " (p. 32) ; appa- 
rently one of those phrases by which he described 
his boldness in seeking another mistress than the 
queen. If this is correct, the point of departure 
in the poem is not later than 1592. At all events 


it is clear that the definite period of '' twelve years 
entire," which he ** wasted in this war; twelve 
years of" his "most happy younger days" (p. 36), 
must be reckoned from the beginning of his court 
favour, about 1580, which brings us to the same 
year, 1592, for its close. From that great check 
he had now passed, he tells us, into a state of 
hopelessness, which he describes under a variety 
of images; amongst which, the complaint that he 
has now " no feeding flocks, no shepherd's com- 
pany " (p. 33), reminds us of the days when he 
talked of Cynthia and her flock with Spenser, 
under "the green alders by the Mulla's shore." 
When he tells us that the "memory" of the 
queen, "more strong than were ten thousand 
ships of war," had nearly brought him back from 
his voyage towards "new worlds" in search of 
gold, and praise, and glory (p. 34), we are re- 
minded that, on his Panama expedition in 1592, 
she sent after him a more potent summons than 
her "memory," in the shape of a recall. The 
images of warmth lingering in the corpse, and 
heat in winter, and motion in the arrested wheel, 
are meant to illustrate the tenacity of hope which 
made him write on, even " in the dust," after his 
disgrace ; and the reality mingles with the figure 
when he speaks, in almost the very language of the 
preface to his History, of the cheerless work of 
banning, by the fading light of life's evening, 
" to write the story of all ages past " (p. 36). The 
distraction which he describes on p. 37 could be 
paralleled from his correspondence. " The tokens 
hung on breast and kindly worn" (p. 41), may 



refer to the interchange of tojB between the 
queen and her courtiers ; as when she sent to Sir 
H. Gilbert " a token from her llajesty, an anchor 
gaided by a lady," with a request for his picture 
in return. A ''ring with a diamond which he 
weareth on his finger, given him by the late 
Queen," was among the jewels found on Raleigh's 
person after his execution. It would be possible, 
but precarious, to trace a reference in other 
passages to the loss of Sherborne, and to the 
disappointed expectations which had so often 
attracted him towards the western world. His 
closing words are simple and touching (p. 60): — 

** Thas home I draw, as death's long night draws on ; 

Yet every foot, old thoughts turn back mine eyes : 
Constraint me guides, as old age draws a stone 

Against the hill, which over- weighty Hes 

For feeble arms or wasted strength to move : 
My steps are backward, gazing on my loss. 

My mind's affection and my soul's sole love, 
Not mixed with fancy's chaff or fortune's dross. 

To God I leave it, who first gave it me, 
And I her gave, and she returned again, 

As it was hers ; so let His mercies be 
Of my last comforts the essential mean. 

But be it so or not, the effects are past ; 

Iler love hath end ; my woe must ever last." 

With the poems of Raleigh and Wotton I have 
now combined what may be accepted, T hope, as a 
fairly representative collection of the minor poetry 
of those " courtly makers," who kept up the suc- 
cession to Surrey and Wyatt through the eventful 
century, which intervened between the death of 
Henry VIII. and the execution of Charles I. Thoy 
are strictly the Courtly Poets of England, though 


the line ends with a famous Scottish name, "which 
forms the more appropriate conclusion to the 
series, because it is known that Baleigh's History 
of the World was one of the favourite studies 
which moulded the boyhood of Montrose. 

There are scarcely half-a-dozen pieces in this 
volume which we owe to poets by profession. 
Most of these poems are little more than the 
comparatively idle words of busy men, whose end 
"was not writing, even while they wrote;" those 
occasional sayings in which the character often 
reveals itself more clearly than in studied lan- 
guage. There is a special charm in compositions 
which have amused the leisure of distinguished 
persons, who have won their spurs in very different 
fields ; of statesmen, soldiers, students and divines, 
who have used metre as the mere outlet for tran- 
sitory feelings, to give grace to a compliment, or 
terseness to the expression of a sudden emotion, 
or point and beauty to a calm reflection. To a 
great extent, such poems are h'kely to be imita- 
tive; and in that aspect they form a curiously 
exact measure of the influence exerted by a style 
or fashion. But several of the pieces which are 
brought together here may claim a higher rank 
than this. Raleigh himself was a man of marked 
original power, which has left its record ii^ his 
poems, as well as in his larger works, and in the 
varied achievements of his chequered life. He 
wrote a sonnet which Milton did not disdain to 
imitate. The Archbishop of Dublin says that 
"there have been seldom profounder thoughts 
more perfectly expressed'* than in part of his \ 


"Poesy to prove Affection is not Love.'* His 
poem called " The Lie " is probably the best in- 
stance of a poetical outburst of anger and scorn, 
which we can find throughout the minor literature 
of the proud and hasty Tudor times. His " Pil- 
grimage," with all its quaintness, is perhaps the 
most striking example of so-called death-bed verses. 
His reply to Marlowe remains even yet unrivalled, 
as the retort of polished common-sense to the 
conventionalities of pastoral poetry. Even when 
tested by this higher standard, the other courtiers 
whose verses are here represented are not unworthy 
to take their places by the side of Raleigh. But 
their poetry will also render us the minor service 
of enabling us to trace the changes in the tone of 
English society from one critical period to another ; 
through intervals of gloom under Mary, and bound- 
less energy under Elizabeth, and suspense under 
James, till the light-hearted gaiety of older Eng- 
land revived amidst the waning fortunes of Charles's 
cavaliers. By the side of much formal adulation, we 
can trace a vein of that manly self-respect, which 
has always formed the mainstay of our public 
life ; and a strong under-current of that religious 
feeling, which the darkest days could never hide. 
And we can also trace a deepening range of 
thought, and a richer harmony of verse, and a 
growing smoothness and facility of language, 
which bear witness to the influence of those 
greater writers, who sustain the main weight of 
the reputation of the Elizabethan age. 

J. H. 

Trinity College, Glenalmond, 
January 28, 1870. 




I. The Cbitics. 


I OR ditty and atnorous ode, I find Sir Walter 
Raleigh's yein most lofty, insolent, and pas- 
sionate." — Puttenham's **Art of English 
Poesy," 1589, p. 51. 

2. Francis Meres mentions Sir Walior Ra- 
leigh as one of ** the most passionate among ns to beifftil and 
bemoan the perplexities of loye." — ** Palladis Tamia," 
1598, p. 154, repr. 

3. Edmund Bolton speaks of his prose works, ** Guiana, 
and his prefatory epistle before his mighty undertaking in 
the History of the World," as "full of proper, clear, and 
courtly graces of speech ;" and couples his English poems 
with those of Donne, Holland, and Lord Brooke as ''not 
easily to be mended.'' — ♦* Hypercritica," circ. 1 610, pp. 249, 
251, repr. 

4. Gabriel Hsrvey is said, in some MS. notes on Chaucer, 
to have called Raleigh's *' Cynthia" ** a fine and sweet in- 
vention." — Malone^s ** Shakespeare," by Boswell, ii. 679. 

5. " He who writeth the Art of English Poesy praiseth 
much Raleigh and Dyer ; but their works are so few that 
are come to my hands, I cannot well say anything of them." 
— Drummond of Uawthornden, "Works," 1711, p. 226. 

6. *' Sir Walter Raleigh, a person both sufficiently known 
in history, and by his * History of the World,' seems also 
by the character given him by the author of the ' Art of 
English Poetry' [Puttenham, as above], to have expressed 


himself more a poet than the little we have extant of his 
poetry seems to import.** — Edward Phillips, '^ Theatrum 
Poetarum," 1675, ii. 233. 

Edmund Spbnseb. 
1. '* Considering she beareth twp persons, the one of a 
most royal Queen or Empress, the other of a most yirtuoni 
and beautiful Lady, this latter part in some places I do ex- 
press in Belphoebe, fashioning her name according to your 
own excellent conceit of Cynthia, — Phcebe and Cynthia being 
both names of Diana.** — Letter of the Author's (of the ** Faery 
Queen**) to Sir Walter Raleigh, l.'i90; Spenser's *" Works,'* 
byCollier, i. 149. 

** To thee, that art the summer's nightingale. 

Thy sovereign Goddess's most dear delight, 
Why do I send this rustic madrigal, 

That may thy tuneful ear unseason quite? 

Thou only fit this argument to write, 
In whose high thoughts pleasure hath built her bower. 

And dainty love learned sweetly to indite. 
My rhjmes I know unsavoury and sour, 
To taste the streams that, like a golden shower, 

Flow from thy fruitful head, of thy love's praise ; 
Fitter, perhaps, to thunder martial stower. 

When so thee list thy lofty Muse to raise : 
Ti^t, till that thou thy poem wilt make known. 
Let thy fair Cynthia's praises be thus rudely shewn." 

(Sonnet to Sir Walter Raleigh, printed with the first three 
books of the ** Faery Queen," in 1590; t6. i. 164.) 

'*But if in living colours and right hue 

Thyself thou covet to see pictured, 
Who can it do more lively or more true 

Than that sweet verse, with nectar sprinkled, 

In which a gracious servant pictured 
His Cynthia, his heaven's fairest light? 

That with his melting sweetness ravished, 
And with the wonder of her beams bright. 
My senses lulled are in slumber of delight. 

" But let that same delicious poet lend 
A little leave unto a rustic Muse 


To sing his mistress' praise ; and let him mend, 

If ought amiss her liking may abuse : 

Ne let his fairest Cynthia refuse 
In mirrors more than one herself to see ; 

But either Gloriana let her choosot 
Or in Belphoebe fashioned to be ; 
In th' one her rule, in th' other her rare chastity." 

(Introduction to the third book of the 
** Faery Queen," ib, ii. 336.) 
** * One day,' quoth he, ' I sat, as was my trade. 

Under the foot of Mole, that mountain hoar, 
Keeping my sheep amongst the coolly shade 

Of the green alders by the Mulla's shore : 
There a strange shepherd chanced to find me out. 

Whether allured with my pipe's delight, 
Whose pleasing sound ^'shrilled far about. 

Or thither led by chance, I know not right : 
Whom when I asked from what place be came, 

And how he hight, himself he did ycleepe 
Tlie Shepherd of the Ocean by name. 

And said he came far from the main-sea deep. 
He, sitting me beside in that same shade, 

ProYoked me to play some pleasant fit ; 
And, when he heard the music which I made. 

He found himself full greatly pleased at it: 
Yet, nmuling my pipe, he took in bond 

My pipe, before that semuled of many, 
And played thereon, for well that skill he conned, 

Himself as skiliul in that art as any. 
He piped, I sung ; and, when he sung, I piped ; 

By change of turns each making other merry ; 
Neither envying other, nor envied, 

So piped we, until we both were weary." 
• • « ♦ • 

** HiS^ng was all a lamentable lay 

Of great unkindness and of usage hard, 
Of Cynthia, the Lady of the Sea, 

Which from her presence faultless him debarred. 
And ever and anon, with singulfs rife. 

He cried out, to make his undersong, 
* Ah, my love's Queen, and Goddess of my life ! 

Who shall me p>ty, when thou dost me wrong?'" 


"And there that Shepherd of the Ocean is, 
That spends his wit in love's consuming smart ; 

Pull sweetly tempered is that Muse of his, 
That can empierce a prince's mighty heart/* 

(** Colin Clout's come home again," 1591 ; ib. v. 33, 37, 47.) 

III. Specimens of Lampoons on Raleigh. 

*' fFater thy plants with grace divine, 

And hope to live for aye ; 
Then to thy Saviour Christ incline ; 

In Him make steadfast stay ; 
Raio is the reason that doth lie 

Within an atheist's head. 
Which saith the soul of man doth die, 

When that the body's dead. 

*' Now may you see the sudden fall 

Of him that thought to climb full high ; — 

A man well known unto you all. 

Whose state, you see, doth stand Rawfy.** 

&c. &c. &c. 

(The first eight lines printed in four as Raleigh* s own 
compotiiion, in the Oxford edition of his works, viii. 732, 
with the title " Moral Advice." They were taken from 
MS. Ashm. 781, p. 163, where they are signed **Sr. Wa. 
Raleigh." Also printed with a continuation, of which the 
above specimen will be sufficient, among Mr. HalliwelPs 
*' Poetical Miscellanies " from MSS. ; Percy Society, vol. xv. 
p. 14. The Oxford editors failed to observe the pun on 
Raleigh's name, to which James I. also condescended on a 
famous occasion.) 

** Watt, I wot well thy overweening wit. 

Led by ambitious humours, wrought thy fall," 

&c. &c. &c. 
** I pity that the 8ummer*8 nightingale^^ 

Immortal Cynthia's sometime dear delight, 
That used to sing so sweet a madrigal. 

Should like an owl go wanderer in the night, 

* Quoted from Spenser's " Sonnet," above, p. xxii. The 
phrase was also adopted by Drayton ; see Collier's " Bibl. 
Cat." I 224-5 ; and note on ^enser. 


Hated of all, but pitied of none, 

Though swanlike now he makes his dying moan." 

(Extracted from a long piece in Mr. Halliwell's '* Poetical 
Miscellanies/' as aboye, pp. 15, 16. The last line is im- 
portant, as proving that Baleigh was beiieyed to have 
written yerses shortly before his death.) 

** The Nightingale will scarce be tame, 

No company keep he can ; 
He dare not show his face for shame ; 

He feareth the look of man : 
But Robin like a man can look, 

And doth shun no place ; 
He will sing in every nook. 

And stare you in the face." 

(Extracted from a piece published from Gough*s MSS. in 
the ** Camden Society's Miscellany," iii. 22 ; and interpreted 
of the quarrel between Raleigh and Essex in Collier's 
** Life of Spenser," p. Ixix.) 


** To whom shall cursed I my case complain, 
To move some pity of my wretched state ? 

For though no other comfort doth remain 
Tet pity would my grief extenuate : 

For I towards God and man myself abused. 

And therefore am of God and man refused. 

** To Heaven I dare not lift my wretched eyes, 
Nor ask for pardon for my wretched deeds ; 

For I His word and service did despise. 

Esteeming them of no more worth than weeds : 
[From] which most vile conceits these woes proceeds; 

For now I find, and, finding, fear to rue, 

There is a God who is both just and true," &c. 

(From ** The despairing Complaint of wretched Raleigh 
for his treacheries wrought against the worthy Essex;" 
MS. Ashm. 36, p. 11. The piece contains forty-one stanzas, 
each of seven Hues except the first.) 

** I speak to such, if any sugh there be. 

Who are possessed, through their Prince's grace, 


With swelling pride and scornful insolenc3r, 
Haughty disdaining and abase or place : 
To such I say, if any such there be, 
Come, see these vices punished in me ! " &c. 

(From *' Raleigh's Caveat to secure Courtiers ;'* following 
the above in the same MS. ; thirty-eight stanzas of six lines 


Answers to *' The Lib ;" cuieflt such as connect 
Raleigh with that Poem. 


Go, echo of the mind, a careless truth protest ; 
Make answer that rude Rawly no stomach can digest : 

For why ? The lie*8 descent is over base to tell ; 
To us it came from Italy ; to them it came from hell. 

What reason proves, confess; what slander saith, deny: 
Let no untruth with triumph pass ; but never give the lie I 

Confess, in glittering court all are not gold that shine ; 
Yet say one pearl and much fine gold g[l]ow8 in the princess 

Confess that many [weeds] do overgrow the ground ; 
Yet say, within the field of God good com is to be found. 

Confess, some judge unjust the widow's right delay; 
Yet say there are some Samuels that never say her nay. 

Admit, some man of state do pitch his thoughts too high ; 
Is that a rule for all the rest, their loyal hearts to try ? 

Your wits are in the wane ; your autumn in the bud ; 
You argue from particulars ; your reason is not good. 

And still that men may see less reason to commend you, 
I marvel most, amongst the rest, how schools and arts offend 

But why pursue I thus the witless words of wind ? 
The more the crab doth seek to creep, the more she is behind. 

In church and commonwealth, in court and country both. 
What! nothing good ? but all [s]o bad that every man doth 
loathe ? 

The further that you range, your error is the wider; 
The bee sometimes doth honey suck, but sure you are a 
spider I 

And so my counsel is, for that you want a name, 
To seek some comer in the dark to hide yourself from shame. 

There wrap the silly fly within your spiteful web ; 


Both church and court may want you well ; they are not at 
such ebb. 

As quarrels once begun arl not so quickly ended. 
So many faults ma}' soon be iound, but not so soon amended. 

And when you come again to give the world the lie, 
I pray you tell them how to live, and teach them how to die. 

(Chetham MS. 8012, p. 107, each line as two. First 
printed by me, partially in 18^2, and at length in 1845.) 

2. The Answer to the Lie, 

Court's scorn, state's disgracing, potentates' scoff, govern- 
ments' defacing, 

Princes' touch, church's unhallowing, arts' injury, virtue's 

Age's monster, honour's wasting, beauty's blemish, favour's 

Wit's excrement, wisdom's vomit, physic's scorn, law's comet, 

Fortune's child, valour's defiler, justice* revenger, friendship's 

Such is the song, such is the author ; worthy to be rewarded 
with a halter. 

Errorie Retponsio. 

Court's commender, state's maintainor, potentate's defender, 
governments' gainer. 

Princes' praiser, church's preacher, arts' raiser, virtue's 

Age's rewarder, honour's strengthener, beauty's guarder, 
favour's lengtheuer. 

Wit's admirer, wisdom's scholar, physic's desirer, law's fol- 

Fortune's blamer, nature's observer, justice' proclaimer, 
friendship's preserver ; 

Such is the author, such is the song ; returning the halter, 
contemning the wrong. Sb. Wa. Ra. 

(MS. Ashm. 7S1, p. 164. Printed from that MS. among 
Maleigh^s own poems in the Oxford edition of his works, viii. 

3. Extract from another Contemporary 
Answer to the Lie. 

St. 2. 

** The Court hath settled sureness 
In banishing such boldness ; 


The Church retains her pureness, 

Though Atheists show their coldness: 
The Court and Church, though base, 
Turn lies into thy face." 

St. 3. 
** The Potentates reply, 

Thou base, by them advanced, 
Sinisterly soarest high, 

And at their actions glanced : 
They, for this thankless part. 
Turn lies into thy heart,*' &c. 

(MS. Tann. 306, fol. 188 ; written stanza by stanza at 
the side of a copy of the original poem.) 


TuE Reaction afteb his Death. 
" hadst thou served thy Heroine all thy days ! 
Had Heaven from storms of envy screened thy bays ! 
Hadst thou stil] flourished in a warlike reign. 
Thy sword had made a conquest, like thy pen ! 
But nought to such untimely fate could bring 
The vcUiant subject, but a coward king." 

("Phobnix Britannicus," 1732, p. 453; Oldys' *« Life of 
Raleigh," p. clxxxv., slightly altered. I have taken one 
word from Oldys' copy.) 


** 1 will not weep ; for 'twere as great a sin 

To shed a tear for thee, as to have been 

An actor in thy death. Thy life and age 

Was but a various scene on Fortune's stage. 

With whom thou tugg'st and strov'st even out of breath 

In thy long toil, ne'er mastered till thy death ; 

And then, despite of trains and cruel wit, 

Thou didst at once subdue malice and it. 

" I dare not then so blast thy memory 
As say I do lament or pity thee. 
Were I to choose a subject to bestow 
My pity on, he should be one as low 
In spirit as desert ; that durst not die, 
But rather were content by slavery 
To purchase life : or I would pity those. 


Thy most industrious and friendly foes. 

Who, when they thought to make thee scandal's story, 

Lent thee a swifter flight to heaven and glory ; 

That thought, by cutting off some withered days 

Which thou could'st spare them, to eclipse thy praise; 

Tet gave it brighter foil ; made thy ag'd fame 

Appear more white and fair than foul their shame ; 

And did promote an execution 

Which, but for them, nature and age had done. 

** Such worthless things as these were only born 
To live on pity's alms, too mean for scorn. 
Thou diedst an envious wonder, whose high fate 
The world must still admire, scarce imitate.'' 

(From Bishop Henry King's ** Poems, Elegies, Paradoxes, 
and Sonnets," 1657, p. 97, as ** An Elegy upon S. W. R." 
Also in Oldys, p. ccxzzi.) 

" Great heart, who taught thee thus to die. 
Death yielding thee the victory ? 
Where took'st thou leave of life ? If here. 
How could'st thou be so free from fear? 
But sure thou diedst, and quittedst the state 
Of flesh and blood before that fate : 
Else what a miracle were wrought, — 
To triumph both in life and thought 1 
I saw in every stander by 
Pale Death ; Life only in thine eye. 
The legacy thou gav'st, we then 
Will sue for, when thou diest again. 
Farewell ! Truth shall this story say, — 
We died, — thou only livedst that day!" 

(Printed in Shirley's "Life of Raleigh," ad /n., as "a 
taste of the poetry of those times." It occurs in MS. Rawl. 
Misc. 699, p. 35, along with the preceding elegy; also 
among the Hawthornden MSS. vol.viii. as by "A. B.," and 
was printed from this last copy by Mr. Laing, ''Arch. 
Stot." iv. 238.) 







RE women fair ? are, wondrous fair to see too." — 
Incladed among *^ Poems supposed to be written 
by Sir W. Raleigh," in the Lee Priory ed. of 
Dayison's '* Poetical Rhapsody,'' voL ii. p. 89» 
on no evidence but the signature **Ignoto." Title, 
" An Invectiye against Women." An anonymous copy in 
the Percy folio ; see Furnivairs edit vol. iii. p. 364. 

2. '* As at noon Dulcina rested." — Given to Raleigh in 
Ellis's *' Specimens," edit. 1801 (not retained in edit. 1811). 
Thence Cayley and Brydges, and the Oxford editors. No 
evidence whatever. An anonymous copy in the Percy folio ; 
see Furnivall's edit. vol. iv. p. 82. 

3. *' Come, gentle herdman, sit by me." — Among Ra 
leigh*8 poems in Lee Priory ed. of Davison's " Poetical 
Rhapsody" (as above), vol. ii. p. 92. No evidence but the 
signature ** Ignoto." Title, " Eclogue." 

4. ** Come, live with me and be my dear." — E. H., p. 
21 G, as a second reply to Marlowe's song (see this vol. p. 10). 
It is headed, *' Another of the same nature made since," 
and signed '* Ignoto." Hence claimed for Raleigh by Ellis, 
Cayley, Brydges, and the Oxford editors. 

5. ** Corydon, arise, my Corydon." — E. H., p. 73, signed 
** Ignoto." Hence claimed for Raleigh by Brydges and the 
Oxford editors. There is an anonymous copy in the " Crown- 
Garland of Golden Roses," 1612, p. 63, repr. 

6. " Court's commender, state's maintained" — A defence 
of " The Lie" in the Ashm. MSS. ; claimed for Raleigh by 
the Oxford editors. (See it in this vol. above, p. xxvii.) 

7. " Court's scorn, state's disgracing." — The attack to 
which the above is a reply. Printed among Raleigh's poems 
by the Oxford editors. (See it in this vol. above, p. xxvti.) 


8 ** Eternal moyer, whose diffused glorj.^^Sir Heniy 
WoUcn's (see it in this vol. p. 91). Erroneonslj cUimed 
for Raleigh in the ** Topographer," on the authority of m 
S. M> MS. 

9. '* Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles!" — 
Author uncertain. {See it in this vol. p. 109.) Ascribed to 
Raleigh by Sir H. Nicolas, without any known authority. 

10. "Hey, down-a-down, did Dian sin^." — E.H.,p. 135, 
as '* A Nymph's disdain of Love," signed " Ignoto." Hence 
claimed for Raleigh by Brydges and the Oxford editors. 

11. <* If love be life, I long to die."— £. H., p. 211, as 
** Dispraise of love uid lovers' follies," signed ** Ignoto." 
Hence claimed for Raleigh by Brydges and the Oxford 
editors. It was added in the second ed. of £. H., from 
Dayison's " Poetical Rhapsody," and is really by A. W. 

12. '* In Peascod time, when hound to horn.'* — £. H.« 
p. 206, as ** The Shepherd's Slumber,'* signed *< Ignoto" in 
the first edition. Hence claimed for Raleigh by Brydges 
and the Oxford editors. 

13. *' It chanced of late a shepherd's swain." — In the 
first part of the Lee Priory ed. of Davison's " Poetical 
Rhapsody," vol. i. p. 17, as *' a Fiction how Cupid made a 
Nymph wound herself with his arrows." Brydges '* sus- 
pected" it *' to be Raleigh's, as well from internal evidence, 
as because it had the signature of * Anomos ' (!) in the edition 
of 1602." Ibid. p. 40; see also his Introduction, p. 39, 
and *< £xc. Tudor." ii. 123. It has been ascribed to Sidney 
Godolphin, though written, as Percy remarks, '^ before he 
was bom." It is really by A. W. 

14. " Lady, my flame still burning." — The first part of 
A ** Dialogue betwixt the Lover and his Lady" (see No. 23). 
Included among Raleigh's supposed poems in the Lee Priory 
ed. of Davison's *' Poetical Rhapsody" (as before), voL ii. 
p. 88. No evidence but the signature " Ignoto." 

15. "Like desert woods with darksome shades obscured.** 
— E. H., p. 224, as '* Thyrsis the shepherd to his pipe," 
signed ** Ignoto." Hence claimed for Raleigh by Brydges 
and the Oxford editors. It is either by Lodge or Dyer (see 
note in this vol. p. 245). 

16. " Love is the link, the knot, the band of unity."— In- 
cluded among Raleigh's supposed poems in the Lee Priory 


ed. of Davison's ** Poetical Rhapsody," vol. ii. p. 90. No 
evidence but the signature *' Ignoto." 

17. " Man's life's a tragedy : his mother's womb.** — 
Marked '* Ignoto " in ** Rel. Wotton.** and hence claimed 
for Raleigh by Brydges and the Oxford editors ; (see it in 
this vol. p. 120.) 

18. •* My prime of youth is but a frost of cares." — ^Tycb 
boame's verses ; (see them in this vol. p. 114.) Mr. D'Israeli 
says that ** they have at one time been assigned to Raleigh ;" 
on what authority I do not know. 

19. ** My wanton Muse, that whilome wont to sing."— 
E. H., p. 225, as " An heroical poem," signed '* Ignoto.** 
Hence claimed for Raleigh by Ellis, Cayley, Brydges, and 
the Oxford editors ; (see it in this vol. p. 179.) It was added 
to the second ed. of £. H., from Davison's "Poetical 
Rhapsody," and is really by A. W. 

20. " Now have I learnt with mnch ado at last.*'— E. H., 
p. 241, as *' a Defiance to disdainful Love," signed ** Ignoto.*' 
Hence claimed for Raleigh by Ellis, Cayley, Brydges, and 
the Oxford editors. It was added to the second ed. of 
E. H., from Davison's " Poetical Rhapsody," and is really 
by A. W. 

21. " Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares." — Marked 
" Ignoto " in " Rel. Wotton." and hence claimed for Raleigh 
by Brydges and the Oxford editors ; (see it in this volume, 
p. 106.) 

22. " Rise, O my soul ! with thy desires to heaven." — 
Marked " Ignoto "in " Rel. Wotton." and hence claimed 
for Raleigh by Brydges and the Oxford editors ; (see it in 
this vol. p. 116.) 

23. " Sweet Lord, your flame still burning."— The lady's 
answer to the piece here numbered 14. Included among 
Raleigh's supposed Poems in the Lee Priory ed. of Davison's 
** Poetical Rhapsody," vol. ii. p. 88. No evidence but the 
signature " Ignoto." 

24. " Sweet violets, Love's Paradise, that spread." — 
E. H., p. 161, as ** The shepherd to the flowers," signed 
" Ignoto." Hence qlaimed for Raleigh by Ellis, Cayley, 
Brydges, and the Oxford editors; (see it in this vol. p. 174.) 

25. '* The fairest pearls that northern seas do breed." — 


E. H., p. S36, u " Love the only price of love," eigned 
" iKnoto." Hence cliiiDtd for Raleigh b; Brydgea end the 
Ox/ord editors It wu added to the aecond ed. of £. H., 
from DaviBoD'e " Poeticel Rbipeod}," end is reallv bjr 

26. " The frosen enake oppressed vilb heaped snow." — 
E. U., p. S30, u " The lover's absenca kills roe, her pre- 
aence kills [oL cures] me," signed " iGnoto." HeDceclaimed 
fur Raleigh b; Brydges ami tha Oxford editota. It was 
added to tha second ed. uf E. II., from Daviegn'g "Fueticnl 
Bhapaody," and ia really by A. W. 

27. •* Water thy plant* with grace divine," &c. — An at- 
tack on Raleitrh, inserted among hie Poams fiom theAshiii. 
US3. by the Oxford editors ; (nee it In this vol. above, p. 

28. " Whilst my bobI's eye beheld do light."— Marked 
" Ignoto" in " Ral. Wotton." and hence claimed for Baleifih 
by Brydgei, but nut by the Oxford editori; (mb it in tbii 










^WEET were the sauce would please 
each kind of taste ; 
The life likewise were pure that 

never gwerved : 

For spiteAil tongues in cankered stomachs placed 

Deem worst of things which best (percase) 


But what for that? This medicine ma^ suffice 

To scorn the rest, and seek to please the wise. 

Though sundry minds in sundry sort do deem, 
Yet worthiest wights yield praise for every pain; 

' PreSzed to George Qucoigae'a " Steel Glau," 15TS. 


But envious brains do nought, or light, esteem 

Such stately steps as they cannot attain : 
For whoso reaps renown above the rest, I 

With heaps of hate shall surely be oppressed. ' 

Wherefore, to write my censure of this book. 
This Glass of Steel unpartially doth show 

Abuses all to such as in it look. 

From prince to poor, from high estate to low. 

As for the verse, who list like trade to try, 

I fear me much, shall hardly reach so high. 



ALLING to mind, my eyes went long 
To cause my heart for to forsake my 

All in a rage I sought to pull them out. 
As who had been such traitors to my rest : 

* 01dy8' " Life of Raleigh," p. Iv., "from the copy of a 
celebrated lady, Lady Isabella Thynoe, who probably had 
it out of the family." Quoted by Puttenham in 1589, as 
" a most excellent ditty, written by Sir Walter Raleigh.-' 
In MS. Ashm. 781, p. 138, it has the signature <*Sr. Wa: 
Raleigh;" and in "Wit's Interpreter," 1671, p. 205, it is 
described as " by Sir Walter Raleigh.** In the " Phcenix 
Nest," 1593, p. 72, in MS. Harl. 6910, fol. 142, verso, and 
in MS. Rawl. 85, fol. 104, wtbo, it is anonymous. 


What could they say to win again my grace ? — 
Forsooth, that they had seen my mistress' face. 

Another time, my hmrt I called to mind, — 
Thinking that he this woo ^ mo had brought, 

Because that he to love his force resigned, 
When of such wars my fancy never thought : 

What could he say when I would him have slain? — 

That he was hers, and had forgone my chain. 

At last, when I perceived both eyes and heart 
Excuse themselves, as guiltless of my ill, 

I found myself the cause of all my smart, 
And told myself that I myself would kill : 

Yet when I saw myself to you was true, 

I loved myself, because myself loved you. 




(Died Oct. 7, 1586) 

praise thy life or wail thy worthy death. 
And want thy wit, — thy wit high, 

pure, divine, — 
Is far beyond the power of mortal line, 
Nor any one hath worth that draweth breath ; 

* Quoted in 1591, by Sir J. Harington, as Sir W. 
Raleigh's ; also at a later date by Drummond of Hawthorn* 
den. Printed anonymously in the " Phcenix Nest/' 1593, 
p. 8, and with Spenser's ** Astrophel," 1595, Sign, k 2. 


Yet rich in zeal (though poor in learnin g's lore), 
And friendly care obscured in secret breast, 
And love that envy in thy life suppressed, — 

Thy dear life done, — and death hath doubled more. 

And I, that in thy time and Hving state 
Did only praise thy virtues in my thought, 
As one that seeld the rising sun hath sought. 

With words and tears now wail thy timeless fate. 

Drawn was thy race aright from princely line ; 
Nor less than such, by gifts that nature gave, — 
The common mother that all creatures have, — 

Doth virtue show, and princely lineage shine. 

A king gave thee thy name ; a kingly mind, — 
That God thee gave, — who found it now too dear 
For this base world, and hath resumed it near 

To sit in skies, and sort with powers divine. 

Kent thy birth-days, and Oxford held thy youth ; 

The heavens made haste, and stayed nor years 
nor time ; 

The fruits of age grew ripe in thy first prime ; 
Thy will, thy words ; thy words the seals of truth. 

Great gifts and wisdom rare employed thee thence. 
To treat from kings with those more great than 

kings ; 
Such hope men had to lay the highest things 

On thy wise youth, to be transported hence. 

Whence to sharp wars sweet honour did thee call, 
Thy country's love, religion, and thy friends ; 
Of worthy men the marks, the lives, and ends, 

And her defence, for whom we labour all. 


There didst thou vanquish shame and tedious age. 
Grief, sorrow, sickness, and hase fortunes might; 
Thy rising day saw never woeful night. 

But passed with praise from off this worldlj' stage. 

Back to the camp by thee that day was brought, 
First thine own death ; and after, thy long fame ; 
Tears to the soldiers ; the proud Castilian's shame ; 

Virtue expressed, and honour truly taught. 

What hath he lost that such great grace hath won ? 
Young years for endless years, and hope unsure 
Of fortune's gifts for wealth that still shall dure : 

O happy race, with so great praises run ! 

England doth hold thy limbs, that bred the same ; 

Flanders thy valour, where it last was tried ; 

The camp thy sorrow, where thy body died ; 
Thy friends thy want ; the world thy virtue's fame ; 

Nations thy wit ; our minds lay up thy love ; 

Letters thy learning ; thy loss years long to come ; 

In worthy hearts sorrow hath made thy tomb ; 
Thy soul and spright enrich the heavens above. 

Thy liberal heart embalmed in grateful tears, 
Young sighs, sweet sighs, sage sighs, bewail thy 

Envy her sting, and spite hath left her gall ; 

Malice herself a mourning garment wears. 

That day their Hannibal died, our Scipio fell, — 
Scipio, Cicero, and Petrarch of our time ; 
Whose virtues, wounded by my worthless rhyme, 

I/jt angels speak, and heaven thy praises telU 






lETHOUGHT I saw the grave where 
Laara lay. 
Within that temple where the vestal 
Was wont to bum : and, passing by that way, 

To see that buried dust of living fame, 
Whose tomb fair Love and fairer Virtue kept, 

All suddenly I saw the Fairy Queen, 
At whose approach the soul of Petrarch wept ; 

And froiii thenceforth those graces were not seen, 
For they this Queen attended ; in whose stead 

Oblivion laid him down on Laura's hearse. 
Hereat the hardest stones were seen to bleed, 
And groans of buried ghosts the heavens did 
pierce : 
Where Homer's spright did tremble all for grief, 
And cursed the access of that celestial thief. 

* Appended to Spenser's "Fairy Queen," books i.-iii.| 
1590, p. 596, 





'HE praise of meaner wits this work liko 
profit brings^ 
As doth the cuckoo's song delight when 
Philumena sings. 
If thou hast formed right true virtue's face herein, 
Virtue herself can best discern, to whom they 

written bin. 
If thou hast beauty praised, let her sole looks 

Judge if aught therein be amiss, and mend it by 

her eine. 
If Chastity want aught, or Temperance her due. 
Behold her princely mind aright, and write thy 

Queen anew. 
Meanwhile she shall perceive how far her virtues 

Above the reach of all that live, or such as wrote 

of yore : 
And thereby will excuse and favour thy good will. 
Whose virtue cannot be expressed but by an angel's 

Of me no lines are loved nor letters are of price. 
Of all which speak our English tongue, but those 

of thy device. 

' From the same ; signed W. R. 




1. Maillowe^s Song. 

isx tassioxate shepherd to his love.^ 

(Brfdre 1593.) 

OME lire with me, and be my love ; 
And we will all the pleasures prove 
That hills and valleys, dales and fields, 
Woods, or steepy mountain yields. 

And we wiU sit upon the rocks. 
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks 
By shallow rivers, to whose falls 
Melodious birds sing madrigals. 

And I will make thee beds of roses, 
And a thousand fragrant posies ; 
A cap of flowers* and a kirtle 
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle ; 

A gown made of the finest wool 
\Miich from our pretty lambs we pull ; 
Fair-lined slippers for the cold, 
With buckles of the purest gold ; 

' Dyce*s " Marlowe,*' iii. 299. An imperfect copy was 
printed in the "Passionate Pilgrim** iu 1599, and it is 
quoted in the " Merry Wives of Windsor," iii. 1. It was 
printed at length with Marlowe*s name in " England*8 
Helicon," 1600; and also in Walton's "Complete Angler,*' 
1653, as " that smooth song which was made by Kit Mar- 
low, now at least fifty years ago.** Marlowe died ««r(y 
years before^— in 1593.. 


A belt of straw and ivy-buds, 
With coral clasps and amber-studs : 
And if these pleasures may thee move, 
Come love with me, and be my love. 

The shepherd-swains shall dance and sing 
For thy delight each May-morning ; 
If these delights thy mind may move. 
Then live with me, and be my love. 

2. Ealeigh's Repl/. 

(Before 1599.) 

F all the world and love were young. 
And truth in every shepherd s tongue, 
These pretty pleasures might me move 
To live .with thee and be thy love. 

But time drives flocks from field to fold, 
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold ; 
And Philomel becometh dumb ; 
The rest complains of cares to come. 

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields 
To wayward winter reckoning yields : 
A honey tongue, a heart of gall, 
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. 

* The first verse was printed in the" Passionate Pilgrim'' 
in 1599, and the whole in ** England's Helicon," 1600, where 
the signature is Ignoto. Also In Walton^s '* Complete 
Angler,** 1653, as "made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his 
yottoger days.'* 


Thy gowns^ thy shoes^ thy bods of roses^ 
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, 
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,-— 
In folly ripe, in reason rotten. 

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds, 
Thy coral clasps and amber studs, — . 
All those in me no means can move 
To come to thee and be thy love. 

But could youth last, and love still breed ; 
Had joys no date, nor age no need ; 
Then those delights my mind might move 
To live with thee and be thy love. 


(Before 1593.) 

'IKE hermit poor in pensive place obscure 
I mean to spend my days of endless 
To wail such woes as time cannot recure, 
Where nought but love shall ever find me out. 
And at my gates despair shall linger still, 
To let in death when love and fortune will. 

* Ascribed to Raleigh in "To-day a Man, to-morrow 
none," 1643-4; King*8 Pamphlets, B. M. vol. 139. It is 
anonymous in the ** Phoenix Nest," lo93, p. 69 ; in " Tixall 
Poetry," p. 115; in MS. Rawl. 85, fol. 21, verso ; in Harl 
MS. 6910, fol. 139, versOf &c. 


A gown of grief my body shall attire, 

And broken hope shall be my strength and stay; 
And late repentance, linked with long desire, 

Shall be the couch whereon my limbs 111 lay. 
And at my gates despair shaU linger still. 
To let in death when love and fortune will. 

My food shall be of care and sorrow made ; 

My drink nought else but tears fallen from mine 
And for my lights in such obscured shade^ 

The flames may serve which from my heart arise. 
And at my gates despair shall linger still, 
To let in death when love and fortune will. 


(Before 1593.) 
i i plt^ g S BflKE truthless dreams, so are my joys 

^ m M a rf y days. 

My love misled, and ifancy quite retired ; 
Of all which past, the sorrow only stays. 

* Signed W. R., with the above title, in " Le Prince 
d*Amoar," 1660, p. 132, and on that authority, acknow- 
ledged by Oldys, p. clxxiii. note, and inserted in the Oxford 
edition of Raleigh s " Works," viii. 730 : correctly, for it is 
quoted as his own by Raleigh himself in the Hatfield MS. ; 
see No. XX. line 144. There is an anonymous copy in the 
•* Phoenix Nest," 1593, p. 70. 


My lost delights, now clean from sight of land, 
Have left me all alone in unknown ways, 

My mind to woe, my life in fortune's hand ; 
Of all which past, the sorrow only stays. 

As in a country strange without companion, 
I only wail the wrong of death's delays. 

Whose sweet spring spent, whose summer well nigh 
done ; 
Of all which past, the sorrow only stays ; 

Whom care forewarns, ere age and winter cold^ 
To haste me hence to find my fortune's fold. 



[ANY desire, but few or none deserve 
To win the fort of thy most constant 
Therefore take heed; let fancy never 
But unto him that will defend thee still : 
For this be sure, the fort of fame once won, 
Farewell the rest, thy happy days are done ! 

Many desire, but few or none deserve 

To pluck the flowers, and let the leaves to fall ; 

* Signed W. R., like the last piece, in "Le Prince d'Amour,'* 
1660, p. 133; and therefore accepted by Oldys and the Ox- 
ford editors, viii. 731. There is an anonvmous copy in 
MS. Rawl. Poet 85, fol. 116, as " written to*M* A. V." 


Therefore take heed ; let fancy never swerve 

But unto him that will take leaves and all : 
For this be sure, the flower once plucked away, 
Farewell the rest, thy happy days decay ! 

Many desire, but few or none deserve 
To cut the corn, not subject to the sickle ; 

Therefore take heed ; let fancy never swerve, 
But constant stand, for mowers' minds are fickle *, 

For this be sure, the crop being once obtained^ 

Farewell the rest, the soil will be disdained. 



(Before 1593.) 

ER face, her tongue, her wit, so fair, so 
sweet, so sharp. 
First bent, then drew, now hit, mine 
eye, mine ear, my heart : 
Mine eye, mine ear, my heart, to like, to learn, to love, 

* A shorter copy than the above occurs anonymously in 
the "Phoenix Nest," 1593, p. 71, and is repeated iu"Le 
Prince d'Amour," 1660, p. 131, as "The Lover's Maze,*' 
with the signature W. R., as in the last two cases. Hence 
it was accepted by Oldys and the Oxford editors, viii. 730. 
The above copy is taken from Davison*s ** Poetical Rhapsody,'* 
where it is anonymous; the title from editions 1611 and 
1621. In editions 1602 and 1608, it is called " A leporting 



Her face, her tongue, her wit, doth lead, doth teach, 

doth move : 
Her face, her tongue, her wit, with beams, with 

sound, with art. 
Doth blind, doth charm, doth rule, mine eye, mine. 

ear, my heart. 

Mine eye, mine ear, my heart, with life, with hope, 

with skill. 
Her face, her tongue, her wit, doth feed, doth feast, 

doth fill : 
face, tongue, wit, with frowns, with checks, 

with smart. 
Wring not, vex not, wound not, mine eye, mine ear, 

my heart : 
This eye, this ear, this heart, shall joy, shall bind, 

shall swear 
Your face, your tongue, your wit, to serve, to love, 

to fear. 



AIN would I, but I dare not ; I dare, 

and yet I may not ; 
I may, although I care not, for pleasure 
when I play not. 

» MS. Rawl. 85, fol. 41, veno, with the signature " W. R." 
in apparently a later hand : thence inserted in the Oxford 
edition of Raleigh's ** Works," vol. viii. p. 732, with the 
title " A Lover's Verses." There is an anonymous copy of 
the first three stanzas in Harl. MS. 6910, fol. 154. 


You laugh because you like not ; I jest whenas I 

joy not ; 
You pierce^ although you strike not ; I strike and 

yet annoy not. 

I spy, whenas I speak not ; for ofib I speak and 

speed not ; 
But of my wounds you reck not, because you see 

they bleed not : 
Yet bleed they where you see not, but you the pain 

endure not : 
Of noble mind they be not that ever kill and cure 


I see, whenas I view not ; I wish, although I 

crave not ; 
I serve, and yet I sue not ; I hope for that I 

have not; 
I catch, although I hold not ; I bum, although I 

flame not ; 
I seem, whenas I would not ; and when I seem, I 

am not. 

Yours am I, though I seem not, and will be, though 

I show not ; 
Mine outward deeds then deem not, when mine 

intent you know not ; 
But if my serving prove not most sure, although I 

sue not, 
Withdraw your mind and love not, nor of my ruin 

rue not. 





|HREE things there be that prosper all 
And flourish while they are asunder 
But on a day, they meet all in a place. 

And when they meet, they one another mar. 

And they be these ; the Wood, the Weed, the Wag : 
The Wood is that that makes the gallows tree ; 

The Weed is that that strings the hangman's bag; 
The Wag, my pretty knave, betokens thee. 

Now mark, dear hoy — while these assemble not, 
Qreen springs the tree, hemp grows, the wag 
is wild ; 

But when they meet, it makes the timber rot. 
It frets the halter, and it chokes the child. 

God Bless the Child! 
^ MS. Malone 19, p. 130. 




|EFORE the sixth day of the next new 

Strange wonders in this kingdom shall 

appear : 

Four kings shall be assembled in this isle, 
Where they shall keep great tumult for awhile. 
Many men then shall have an end of crosses, 
And many likewise shall sustain great lossefi ; 
Many that now full joyful are and glad. 
Shall at that time be sorrowful and sad ; 
FuU many a Christian's heart shall quake for fear, 
The dreadful sound of trump when he shall hear. 
Dead bones shall then be tumbled up and down, 
In every city and in every town. 
By day or night this tumult shall not cease, 
Until an herald shall proclaim a peace ; 
An herald strong, the like was never bom. 
Whose very beard is flesh and mouth is horn. 

S*- Wal. E. 

' MS. Malone 19, p. 4.*). Also ascribed to Baleigh in the 
Catalogue of Oxford MSS. among those of o. c. c. 




'assigns are likened best to floods and 
streams : 
The shallow murmur, but the deep 
are dumb ; 
So, when affections yield discourse, it seems 

The bottom is but shallow whence they come. 
They that are rich in words, in words discover 
That they are poor in that which makes a lover. 

Wrong not, sweet empress of my heart, 

The merit of true passion. 
With thinking that he feels no smart. 

That sues for no compassion ; 

Since, if my plaints serve not to approve 

The conquest of thy beauty. 
It comes not from defect of love. 

But from excess of duty. 

^ Signed as below in a MS. formerly belonging to the 
late Mr. Pickering. The text of the Oxford edition, viii. 716, 
is corrected from a Bawl. MS. where the piece is absurdly 
headed " Sir Walter Raleigh to Queen Elizabeth." Also 
assigned to Raleigh in the Lansdowne MS. of some of W. 
Browne's Poems ( Brydges, Preface to Browne*s Poems, L. P. 
1815, p. 6). In other old copies entitled ** To his Mistress, by 
Sir Walter Raleigh ;" see '* Wit's Interpreter," 1 67 1 , p. 146 ; 
another copy on p. 173 is anonymous. The title given above 
is from Oldys, p. Iv. and the editions of Raleigh's Works. 
The piece has been claimed on inferior evidence for Lord 
Pembroke,Sir R. Aytoun, and Lord Walden. 


For, knowing that I sue to serve 

A saint of such perfection, 
As all desire, but none deserve, 

A place in her affection, 

I rather choose to want relief 

Than venture the revealing ; 
Where glory recommends the grief, 

Despair distrusts the healing. 

Thus those desires that aim too high 

For any mortal lover, 
When reason cannot make them die. 

Discretion doth them cover. 

Yet, when discretion doth bereave 
The plaints that they should utter. 

Then thy discretion may perceive 
That silence is a suitor. 

Silence in love bewrays mpre woe 
Than words, though ne'er so witty : 

A beggar that is dumb, you know. 
May challenge double pity. 

Then wrong not, dearest to my heart. 
My true, though secret, passion : 

He smarteth most that hides his smart, 
And sues for no compassion. 

s^ w. n. 




(Before 1602.) 

iONCEIT, begotten by the eyes, 
Is quickly born and quickly dies ; 
For while it seeks our hearts to have, 
Meanwhile, there reason makes his 
For many things the eyes approve, 
Which yet the heart doth seldom love. 

For as the seeds in spring time sown 
Die in the ground ere they be grown, 
Such is conceit, whose rooting fails, 
As child that in the cradle quails ; 
Or else within the mother's womb 
Hath his beginning and his tomb. 

Affection follows Fortune's wheels, 
And soon is shaken from her heels ; 
For, following beauty or estate, 
Her liking still is turned to hate ; 
For all affections have their change. 
And fancy only loves to range. 

Desire himself runs out of breath. 
And, getting, doth but gain his death : 

' Davison's " Poetical Rhapsody," 1602-1621. 


Desire nor reason hath nor rest, 
And, blind, doth seldom choose the best : 
Desire attained is not desire. 
But as the cinders of the fire. 

As ships in ports desired are drowned^ 
As fruit, once ripe, then falls to ground, 
As flies that seek for flames are brought 
To cinders by the flames they sought^ 
So fond desire when it attains. 
The life expires, the woe remains. 

And yet some poets fain would prove 
Affection to be perfect love ; 
And that desire is of that kind, 
No less a passion of the mind ; 
As if wild beasts and men did seek 
To like, to love, to choose alike. 

W. R. 


(Certainly before 1608; possibly before 1596.) 

0, Soul, the body's guest. 
Upon a thankless arrant : 
Fear not to touch the best ; 
The truth shall be thy warrant : 

* Signed " Wa: Raleigh " in MS. Chetham, 8012, p. 103, 
and headed ** Shr Walter Wrawly his lye " in a MS. of Mr. 
Collier's; see his ** fiibl. Cat.," vol. ii. p. 224. Also ascribed 


Go, since I needs most die. 
And give the world the lie« 

Saj to the court, it glows 
And shines like rotten wood ; 

Say to the church, it shows 
What's goody and doth no good 

If church and court reply, 

Then give them hoth the lie. 

Tell potentates, they live 
Acting by others' action ; 

Not loved unless they give, 
Not strong but by a faction : 

If potentates reply, 

Give potentates the lie. 

Tell men of high condition. 
That manage the estate, 

Their purpose is ambition, 
Their practice only hate : 

And if they once reply, 

Then give them all the lie. 

to Raleigh by name in a contemporary answer in the Chetham 
MS. p. 107, and by implication in some other early replies; 
see appendix to the Introduction, A. No. IV. It was in- 
serted by Birch in 1751 among Raleigh's ** Minor Works/* 
▼ol. iL p. 396, as " The Farewell." Many other old copies are 
anonymous; e.g, in Davison's "IN>eticd Rhapsody," 1608- 
1621 (p. 100); in MS. Tann., 306, fol. 188; in Harl. MS. 
6910, fol. 141, verso, and in Harl. MS. 2296, fol. 135. Some 
of these texts contain both additions and mutilations ; and 
spurious copies are found among the poems of Sylvester, 
p. 652, editions 1633 and 164h and of Lord Pembroke, 
p. 104, edition 1660. 


Tell them that brave it most, 
They beg for more by spending, 

Who, in their greatest cost, 
Seek nothing but commending : 

And if they make reply, 

Then give them all the lie. 

Tell zeal it wants devotion ; 

Tell love it is but lust ; 
Tell time it is but motion ; 

Tell flesh it is but dust : 
And wish them not reply, 
For thou must give the lie. 

Tell age it daily wasteth ; 

Tell honour how it alters ; 
Tell beauty how she blasteth ; 

Tell favour how it falters : 
And as they shall reply, 
Give every one the lie. 

Tell wit how much it wrangles 

In tickle points of niceness ; 
Tell wisdom she entangles 

Herself in over-wiseness : 
And when they do reply, 
Straight give them both the lie. 

Tell physic of her boldness ; 

Tell skill it is pretension ; 
Tell charity of coldness ; 

Tell law it is contention : 
And as they do reply. 
So give them still the lie. 


T^ fortune of her blindness ; 

Tell nature of decay ; 
Tell friendship of unkindness ; 

Tell justice of delay : 
And if they will reply, 
Then give them all the lie. 

Tell arts they have no soundness, 

But vary by esteeming ; 
Tell schools they want profoundness, 

And stand too much on seeming : 
If arts and schools reply, 
Give arts and schools the lie. 

Tell faith it's fled the city ; 

Tell how the country erreth ; 
Tell manhood shakes off pity ; 

Tell virtue least preferreth : 
And if they do reply. 
Spare not to give the lie. 

So when thou hast, as I 

Commanded thee, done blabbing,— 
Although to give the lie 

Deserves no less than stabbing, — 
Stab at thee he that will. 
No stab the soul can kill. 




(Cire. 1603?) 

IVE me my scallop-shell of quiet, 
My staff of faith to walk upon, 
My scrip of joy, immortal diet. 
My bottle of salvation, 
My gown of glory, hope's true gage ; 
And thus I'll take my pilgrimage. 

Blood must be my body's balmer ; 

No other balm will there be given ; 
Whilst my soul, like quiet palmer, 

Travelleth towards the land of heaven ; 
Over the silver mountains, 
Where spring the nectar foxmtains : 
There will I kiss 
The bowl of bliss ; 
And drink mine everlasting fill 
Upon every milken hill. 
My soul will be a-dry before ; 
But after, it will thirst no more. 

' In MS. Ashm. 38, No. 70, it is entitled " Verses made 
by Sr. Walter Raleigh the night before he was beheaded ;" 
a date probably taken by inference from the closing lines. 
In a MS. belonging to ihe late Mr. Pickering, the title is 
the same as is here given from the old editions of Raleigh's 
'* Remains." There are many other early copies ; in the 
best of which the two concluding lines are omitted. 


Then by that happy blissful day. 

More peaceful pilgrims I shall see. 
That have east off their rags of clay, 
And walk apparelled fresh like me. 

rU take them first 

To quench their thirst 
And taste of nectar suckets, 

At those clear wells 

Where sweetness dwells, 
Drawn up by saints in cr}'stal buckets. 

And when our bottles and all we 

Are filled with immortality. 

Then the blessed paths we'll travel, 

Strewed with rubies thick as gravel ; 

Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire floors, 

High walls of coral and pearly bowers. 

From thence to heaven's bribeless hall, 

Where no corrupted voices brawl ; 

No conscience molten into gold, 

No forged accuser bought or sold, 

No cause deferred, no vain-spent journey. 

For there Christ is the king's Attorney, 

Who pleads for all without degrees. 

And He hath angels, but no fees. 

And when the grand twelve-million jury 

Of our sins, with direful fury, 

Against our souls black verdicts give, 

Christ pleads His death, and then we live. 

Be Thou my speaker, taintless pleader, 
Unblotted lawyer, true proceedcr ! 
Thou givest salvation even for alms ; 
Not with a bribed lawyer's palms. 


And this is mine eternal plea 
To Him that made heaven, earth, and sea, 
That, since my flesh must die so soon. 
And want a hiead to dine next noon, 

Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread. 

Set on my soul an everlasting head ! 

Then am I ready, like a palmer fit. 

To tread those blest paths which before I wfit. 


r Of death and judgment, heaven and hell, \ ^ ^ ^ ^siU^ 
> Who oft doth think, must needs die well. ^^ 


rH AT is our life ? The play of passion. 
Our, mirth ? The music of division : 
Our mothers' wombs the tiring-houses 

Where we are dressed for life's short comedy. 
The earth the stage ; Heaven the spectator is, 
Who sits and views whosoe'er doth act amiss. 
The graves which hide us from the scorching sun 
Are like drawn curtains when the play is done. 
Thus playing post we to our latest rest. 
And then we die in earnest, not in jest. 

S*^ W. E. 

* From a MS. formerly belonging to the late Mr. Picker- 
ing. It was printed anonymously in a music-book of 1612 ; 
see ** Censnra Lit./' vol. ii. p. 103, 2nd edition ; and is found 
also in MS. Ashm. 36, p. 35, and MS. Ashm. 38, fol. 154. 





AD Lucan hid the truth to please the time, 
Hehadheen too unworthy of thy pou, 
\Slio never sought nor ever cared to climb 
By flattery, or seeking worthless men. 
For this thou hast been bruised ; but yet those scars 

Do beautify no less than those wounds do. 
Received in just and in religious wars ; 

Though Uiou hast bled by both, and bearest 
them too. 
Change not ! To change thy fortune 'tis too late : 

Who with a manly faith resolves to die. 
May promise to himself a lasting state, 

Though not so great, yet free from infamy. 
Such was thy Lucan, whom so to translate. 
Nature thy muse like Lucan's did create. 

W. R. 

* Prefixed to Sir A. Gorges' translation of Lucaii's 
" Pharsalia," 1614. 







F Cynthia be a Queen, a princess, and 
Keep these among the rest, or say it was 
a dream; 
For those that like, expound, and those that loathe, 

Meanings according as their minds are moved more 

or less. 
For writing what thou art, or showing what thou 

Adds to the one disdain, to the other but despair. 
Thy mind of neither needs, in both seeing it 


My body in the walls captived 
Feels not the wounds of spiteful envy ; 

But my thralled mind, of liberty deprived, 
Fast fettered in her ancient memory, 

Doth nought behold but sorrow's dying face : 
Such prison erst was so delightful. 

As it desired no other dwelling place : 
But time's effects and destinies despiteful 

Hatfield MSS., vol. cxliv., fol. 238, tqq, ** In Sir 
Walter's own hand.'' 


Have changed both my keeper and my fare. 
Love s fire and beauty s light I then had store ; 

But now, close kept, as captives wonted are, 
That food, that heat, that light, I find no more. 

Despair bolts up my doors ; and I alone 

Speak to dead walls ; but those hear not my moan. 




[UFFICETH it to you, my joys interred. 
In simple words that I my woes 
complain ; 
You that then died when first my fancy 
erred, — 
Joys under dust that never live again ? 

If to the living were my muse addressed, 
Or did my mind her own spirit still inhold, 

Were not my living passion so repressed 
As to the dead the dead did these unfold. 

Some sweeter words, some more becoming verse 
Should witness my mishap in higher kind ; 

But my love's wounds, my fancy in the hearse, 
The idea but resting of a wasted mind. 

The blossoms fallen, the sap gone from the tree. 
The broken monuments of my great desires, — 

From these so lost what may the affections be ? 
What heat in cinders of extinguished fires ? 


Lost in the mud of those high-flowing streams, 
Which through more fairer fields their courses 

Slain with self- thoughts, amazed in fearful dreams. 
Woes without date, discomforts without end : 

From fniit[less] trees I gather withered leaves. 
And glean the broken ears with miser's hand, 

Who sometime did enjoy the weighty sheaves ; 
I seek fair flowers amid the brinish sand. 

All in the shade, even in the fair sun days, 
Under those healthless trees I sit alone, 

Where joyful birds sing neither lovely lays. 
Nor Philomen recounts her direful moan. 

No feeding flocks, no shepherd's company. 
That might renew my dolorous conceit, 

While happy then, while love and fantasy 

Confined my thoughts on that fair flock to wait ; 

No pleasing streams fast to the ocean wending, 
The messengers sometimes of my great woe ; 

But all on earth, as from the cold storms bending, 
Shrink from my thoughts in high heavens or below. 

Oh, hopeful love, my object and invention. 
Oh, true desire, the spur of my conceit. 

Oh, worthiest spirit, my mind's impulsion, 
Oh, eyes transpersant, my aflection's bait ; 

Oh, princely form, my fancy's adamant, 
Divine conceit, my pains' acceptance, 

Oh, all in one ! oh, heaven on earth transparent ! 
The seat of joys and love's abundance I 



Out of that mass of miracles^ my muse 

Gathered those flowers, to her pure senset 
pleasing ; 

Out of her eyes, the store of joys, did choose 
Equal delights, my sorrow's coimterpoising. 

Her r^al looks my yigorous sighs suppressed ; 

Small drops of joys sweetened great worlds of 
One gladsome day a thousand cares redressed; — 

Whom love defends, what fortune overthrows ? 

When she did well, what did there else amiss ? 

When she did ill, what empires would have 
No other power effecting woe or bliss, 

She gave, she took, she wounded, she appeased. 

The honour of her love love still devising. 
Wounding my mind with contrary conceit. 

Transferred itself sometime to her aspiring. 
Sometime the trumpet of her thought's retreat. 

To seek new worlds for gold, for praise, for glory. 
To try desire, to try love severed far. 

When I was gone, she sent her memory. 

More strong than were ten thousand ships of war; 

To call me back, to leave great honour's thought. 
To leave my friends, my fortune, my attempt ; 

To leave the purpose I so long had sought, 
And hold both cares and comforts in contempt. 

Such heat in ice, such fire in frost remained. 
Such trust in doubt, such comfort in despair, 

Which, like the gentle lamb, though lately weaned, 
Plays with the dug, though finds no comfort there. 


But as a body, violently slain, 

Retaineth warmth although the spirit be gone, 
And by a power in nature moTes again 

Till it be laid below the fatal stone ; 

Or as the earth, even in cold winter days. 
Left for a time by her life-giving sun, 

Poth by the power remaining of his rays 

Produce some green, though not as it hath done ; 

Or as a wheel, forced by the falling stream. 
Although the course be turned some other way, 

Doth for a time go round upon the beam. 
Till, wanting strength to move, it stands at stay ; 

So my forsaken heart, my withered mind, — 
Widow of all the joys it once possessed. 

My hopes clean out of sight with forced wind, 
To kingdoms strange, to lands far-off addressed, 

Alone, forsaken, friendless, on the shore 

With many wounds, with death's cold pangs 

Writes in the dust, as one that could no more, 
Whom love, and time, and fortune, had defaced ; 

Of things so great, so long, so manifold. 

With means so weak, the soul even then depicting 

The weal, the woe, the passages of old, 

And worlds of thoughts described by one last 

As if, when after Phoebus is descended. 

And leaves a light much like the past day's 

And, every toil and labour wholly ended. 
Each living creature draweth to his resting, 


We should be^n by auch a partiiig light 

To write the story of all ages past^ 
And end the same before the approaching night. 

8aeh is again the labour of my mind. 
Whose shrondy by sorrow woven now to end, 

Hath seen that ever shining sun declined^ 
So many years that so could not descend. 

But that the eyes of my mind held her beams 
In every part transferred by love's swift thought ; 

Far off or near, in waking or in dreams. 
Imagination strong their lustre brought. 

Such force her angelic appearance had 
To master distance, time, or cruelty ; 

Such art to grieve, and after to make glad ; 
Such fear in love, such love in majesty. 

My weary lines her memory embalmed ; 

My darkest ways her eyes make dear as day. 
What storms so great but Cjmthia's beams appeased ? 

What rage so fierce, that love could not allay ? 

Twelve years entire I wasted in this war ; 

Twelve years of my most happy younger days ; 
But I in them, and they now wasted are : 

" Of all which past, the sorrow only stays." 

So wrote I once, and my mishap foretold. 
My mind still feeling sorrowful success ; 

Even as before a storm the marble cold 

Doth by moist tears tempestuous times express, 

So felt my heavy mind my harms at hand, 

Which my vain thought in vain sought to recure : 

At middle day my sun seemed under land, 
When any little cloud did it obscure. 


And as the icicles in a winter's day, 

Whenas the sun shines with unwonted warm, 

So did my joys melt into secret tears ; 

So did my heart dissolve in wasting drops : 
And as the season of the year outwears, 

And heaps of snow from off the mountain tops 

With sudden streams the valleys overflow, 
So did the time draw on my more despair : 

Then floods of sorrow and whole seas of woe 
The banks of all my hope did overbear, 

And drowned my mind in depths of misery : 
Sometime I died ; sometime I was distract. 

My soul the stage of fancy's tragedy ; 
Then furious madness, where true reason lacked, 

Wrote what it would, and scourged mine own 
Oh, heavy heart ! who can thee witness bear ? 
What tongue, what pen, could thy tormenting treat, 
But thine own mourning thoughts which present 
were ? 

What stranger mind believe the meanest part ? 
What altered sense conceive the weakest woe, 
That tare, that rent, that pierced thy sad heart ? 

And as a man distract, with triple might 

Bound in strong chains doth strive and rage in 

Till, tired and breathless, he is forced to rest, — 
Finds by contention but increase of pain. 

And fiery heat inflamed in swollen breast ; 


80 did my mind in change of passion 

From woe to wrath, from wrath return to woe, 
Struggling in vain from love's subjection ; 

Therefore, all lifeless and all helpless bound, 
My fainting spirits sunk, and heart appalled. 

My joys and hopes lay bleeding on the groimd, 
That not long since the highest heaven scaled. 

I hated life and cursed destiny ; 

The thoughts of passed times, like flames of hell, 
Kindled afresh within my memory 

The many dear achievements that befell 

In those prime years and infancy of love. 

Which to describe were but to die in writing ; 

Ah, those I sought, but vainly, to remove. 
And vainly shall, by which I perish living. 

And though strong reason hold before mine eyes 
The images and forms of worlds past. 

Teaching the cause why all those flames that rise 
From forms external can no longer last. 

Than that those seeming beauties hold in prime 
Love's ground, his essence, and his empery. 

All slaves to age, and vassals unto time, 
Of which repentance writes the tragedy : — 

But this my heart's desire could not conceive, 
Whose love outflew the fastest flying time, 

A beauty that can easily deceive 
The arrest of years, and creeping age outciimb. 


A spring of beauties which time ripeth not — 
Time that but works on frail mortality ; 

A sweetness which woe's wrongs outwipeth not, 
Whom love hath chose for his divinity ; 

A vestal fire that bums but never wasteth. 
That loseth nought by giving light to all, 

That endless shines each where, and endless lasteth. 
Blossoms of pride that can nor fade nor fall ; 

These were those marvellous perfections, 
The parents of my sorrow and my envy, 

Most deathful and most violent infections ; 
These be the tyrants that in fetters tie 

Their wounded vassals, yet nor kill nor cure, 
But glory in their lasting misery — 

That, as her beauties would, our woes should dure — 
These be the effects of powerful empery. 

Yet have these wounders want, which want com- 
passion ; 

Yet hath her mind some marks of human race ; 
Yet will she be a woman fur a fashion. 

So doth she please her \artues to deface. 

And like as that immortal power doth seat 

An element of waters, to allay 
The fiery sunbeams that on earth do beat, 

And temper by cold night the heat of day, 

So hath perfection, which begat her mind, 

Added thereto a change of fantasy. 
And left her the affections of her kind. 

Yet free from every evil but cruelty. 


But leave her praise ; speak thou of nought but 

Write on the tale that sorrow bids thee tell ; 
Strive to forget, and care no more to know 

Thy cares are known, by knowing those too well. 

Describe her now as she appears to thee ; 

Not as she did appear in days fordone : 
In love, those things that were no more may be^ 

For fancy seldom ends where it begun. 

And as a stream by strong hand boimded in 
From nature's course where it did sometime run, 

By some small rent or loose part doth begin 
To find escape, till it a way hath won ; 

Doth then all unawares in sunder tear 
The forced bounds, and, raging, run at largo 

In the ancient channels as they wonted were ; 
Such is of women's love the careful charge, — 

Held and maintained with multitude of woes ; 

Of long erections such the sudden fall : 
One hour diverts, one instant overthrows, 

For which our lives, for which oiu* fortune's thrall 

So many years those joys have dearly bought ; 

Of which when our fond hopes do most assure, 
All is dissolved ; our labours come to nought ; 

Nor any mark thereof there doth endure : 

No more than when small drops of rain do fall 
Upon the parched ground by heat updried ; 

No cooling moisture is perceived at all, 
Nor any show or sign of wet doth bide. 


But as the fields, clothed with leaves and flowers, 
The hanks of roses smelling precious sweet, 

Have hut their heauty's date and timely hours. 
And then, defaced hy winter's cold and sleet, 
« ♦ « « « 

So far as neither fruit nor form of flower 
Stays for a witness what such hranches hare. 

But as time gave, time did again devour, 
And change our rising joy to falling care : 

So of aflection which our youth presented ; 

When she that from the sun reaves power and 
Did hut decline her heams as discontented, 

Converting sweetest days to saddest night, 

All droops, all dies, all trodden under dust, 
The person, place, and passages forgotten ; 

The hardest steel eaten with softest rust. 
The firm and solid tree both rent and rotten. 

Those thoughts, so full of pleasure and content. 
That in our absence were aflection's food. 

Are razed out and from the fancy rent ; 

In highest grace and heart's dear care that stood. 

Are cast for prey to hatred and to scorn, — 
Our dearest treasures and our heart's true joys ; 

The tokens hung on breast and kindly worn. 
Are now elsewhere disposed or held for toys. 

And those which then our jealousy removed, 
And others for our sakes then valued dear, 

The one forgot, the rest are dear beloved. 
When all of ours doth strange or vild appear. 


Those streams seem standing puddles, which before 

We saw our beauties in, so were they dear ; 
Belphoebe s course is now observed no more ; 

That fair resemblance weareth out of date ; 

Our ocean seas are but tempestuous waves. 
And all things base, that blessed were of late 

And as a field, wherein the stubble stands 
Of harvest past, the ploughman's eye offends ; 

He tills again, or tears them up with hands. 
And throws to fire as foiled and fruitless ends, 

And takes delight another seed to sow ; 

So doth the mind root up all wonted thought. 
And scorns the care of our remaining woes ; 

The sorrows, which themselves for us have 

Are burnt to cinders by new kindled fires ; 

The ashes are dispersed into the air ; 
The sighs, the groans of all our past desires 

Are clean outworn, as things that never were. 

With youth is dead the hope of love's return, 
Who looks not back to hear our afber-cries : 

Where he is not, he laughs at those that mourn ; 
Whence he is gone, he scorns the mind that dies. 

When he is absent, he believes no words ; 

When reason speaks, he, careless, stops his ears ; 
Whom he hath left, he never grace affords. 

But bathes his wings in our lamenting tears. 

Unlasting passion, soon outworn conceit, 
Whereon I built, and on so dureless trust I 


My mind had wounds, I dare not say deceit, 
Were I resolved her promise was not just. 

Sorrow was my revenge and woe my hate ; 

I powerless was to alter my desire ; 
My love is not of time or bound to date ; 

My heart's internal heat and living fire 

Would not, or could, be quenched with sudden 
showers ; 

My bound respect was not confined to days ; 
My vowed faith not set to ended hours ; 

I love the bearing and not bearing sprays 

Which now to others do their sweetness send ; 
The incarnate, snow-driven white, and purest 
Who from high heaven doth on their fields descend, 
Filling their barns with grain, and towers with 

Erring or never erring, such is love 

As, while it lasteth, scorns the account of those 
Seeking but self-contentment to improve. 

And hides, if any be, his inward woes. 

And will not know, while he knows his own passion, 

The often and unjust perseverance 
In deeds of love and state, and every action 

From that first day and yearof their joy's entrance. 

But I, unblessed and ill-bom creature, 

That did embrace the dust her body bearing, 

That loved her, both by fancy and by nature, 
That drew, even with the milk in my first sucking, 


Affection from the parent's breast that bare me^ 
Have found her as a stranger so severe, 

Improving my mishap in each degree ; 
But love was gone : so would I my life were ! 

A queen she was to me, — no more Belphoebe ; 

A lion then, — ^no more a milk-white dove ; 
A prisoner in her breast I could not be ; — 

She did untie the gentle chains of love. 

« * « « « 

Love was no more the love of hiding 

All trespass and mischance for her own glory : 
It had been such ; it was still for the elect ; 

But I must be the example in love's story ; 
This was of all forepast the sad effect. 

But thou, my weary soul and heavy thought, 
Made by her love a burthen to my being, 

Dost know my error never was forethought, 
Or ever could proceed from sense of loving. 

Of other cause if then it had proceeding, 
I leave the excuse, sith judgment hath been 
given ; 

The limbs divided, sundered, and ableeding, 
Cannot complain the sentence was uneven. 

This did that nature's wonder, virtue's choice. 
The only paragon of time's begetting. 

Divine in words, angelical in voice. 

That spring of joys, that flower of love's own 


The idea remaining of those golden ages. 

That beauty, braving heavens and earth em- 
Which after worthless worlds but play on stages. 
Such didst thou her long since describe, yet 

That thy unable spirit could not find aught. 
In heaven's beauties or in earth's delight. 

For likeness fit to satisfy thy thought : 
But what hath it availed thee so to write ? 

She cares not for thy praise, who knows not theirs ; 

It's now an idle labour, and a tale 
Told out of time, that dulls the hearer's ears ; 

A merchandize whereof there is no sale. 

Leave them, or lay them up with thy despairs ! 

She hath resolved, and judged thee long ago. 
Thy lines are now a murmuring to her ears, 

Like to a falling stream, which, passing slow. 

Is wont to nourish sleep and quietness ; 

So shall thy painful labours be perused. 
And draw on rest, which sometime had regard ; 

But those her cares thy errors have excused. 

Thy days fordone have had their day's reward ; 

So her hard heart, so her estranged mind. 
In which above the heavens I once reposed ; 

So to thy error have her ears inclined. 

And have forgotten all thy past deserving, 
Holding in mind but only thine offence ; 

And only now affecteth thy depraving, 
And tiiinks all vain that pleadeth thy defence. 

46 THE POEMS or 

Yet greater fancy beauty never bred ; 

A more desire the heart-blood never nourished ; 
Her sweetness an affection never fed. 

Which more in any age hath ever flourished. 

The mind and virtue never have begotten 
A firmer love, since love on earth had power ; 

A love obscured, but cannot be forgotten ; 
Too great and strong for time's jaws to devour ; 

Containing such a faith as ages wound not, 
Care, wakeful ever of her good estate. 

Fear, dreading loss, which sighs and joys not, 
A memory of the joys her grace begat ; 

A lasting gratefulness for those comforts past. 
Of which the cordial sweetness cannot die ; 
* These thoughts, knit up by faith, shall ever last ; 
These time assays, but never can untie, 

Whose life once lived in her pearl-like breast, 
Whose joys were drawn but from her happiness, 

Whose heart's high pleasure, and whose mind s 
true rest, 
Proceeded from her fortune's blessedness ; 

Who was intentive, wakeful, and dismayed 
In fears, in dreams, in feverous jealousy. 

Who long in silence served, and obeyed 
With secret heart and hidden loyalty. 

Which never change to sad adversity, 
Which never age, or nature's overthrow, 

Which never sickness or deformity. 

Which never wasting care or wearing woe. 

If subject unto these she could have been,-— 


Which never words or wits mahcious, 

Which never honour's bait, or world's fame^ 

Achieved by attempts adventurous, 

Or aught beneath the sun or heaven's frame 

Can 80 dissolve, dissever, or destroy 

The essential love of no frail parts compounded, 
Though of the same now buried be the joy, 

•The hope, the comfort, and the sweetness ended. 

But that the thoughts and memories of these 
Work a relapse of passion, and remain 

Of my sad heart the sorrow-sucking bees ; 
The wrongs received, the frowns persuade in vain. 

And though these medicines work desire to end. 
And are in others the true cure of liking. 

The salves that heal love's wounds, and do amend 
Consuming woe, and slake our hearty sighing. 

They work not so in thy mind's long decease ; 

External fancy time alone recureth : 
All whose effects do wear away with ease 

Love of delight, while such delight endureth ; 
Stays by the pleasure, but no longer stays .... 

But in my mind so is her love inclosed, 
And is thereof not only the best part, 

But into it the essence is disposed : 

Oh love I (the more my woe) to it thou art 

Even as the moisture in each plant that grows ; 

Even as the sun unto the frozen ground ; 
Even as the sweetness to the incarnate rose ; 

Even as the centre in each perfect round ; 


As water to the fish, to men as air. 
As heat to fire, as light unto the sun ; 

Oh love ! it is but vain to say thou were ; 
Ages and times cannot thy power outrun. 

Thou art the soul of that unhappy mind 

Which, being by nature made an idle thought, 

Began even then to take immortal kind. 

When first her virtues in thy spirits wrought. 

From thee therefore that mover cannot move, 
Because it is become thy cause of being ; 

Whatever error may obscure that love. 
Whatever frail efiect in mortal living, 

Whatever passion from distempered heart, 
What absence, time, or injuries effect, 

W)iat faithless friends or deep dissembled art 
Present to feed her most unkind suspect. 
♦ ♦♦♦♦♦ 

Yet as the air in deep caves underground 

Is strongly clrawn when violent heat hath vent. 

Great clefts therein, till moisture do abound, 
And then the same, imprisoned and uppent. 

Breaks out in earthquakes tearing all asunder ; 
So, in the centre of my cloven heart — 

My heart, to whom her beauties were such wonder- 
Lies the sharp poisoned head of that love's dart 

Which, tiU all break and all dissolve to dust. 
Thence drawn it cannot be, or therein known : 

There, mixed with my heart-blood, the fretting rust 
The better part hath eaten and outgrown. 


But what of those or these ? or what of ought 
Of that which was, or that which is, to treat ? 

What I possess is but the same I sought : 
My love was false, my labours were deceit. 

Nor less than such they are esteemed to be ; 

A fraud bought at the price of many woes ; 
A guile, whereof the profits unto me — 

Could it be thought premeditate for those ? 

Witness those withered leaves left on the tree, 
The sorrow- worn face, the peyisive mind ; 

The external shews what may the internal be : 
Cold care hath bitten both the root and rind. 

But stay, my thoughts, make end : give fortune way : 
Harsh is the voice of woe and sorrow's sound : 

Complaints cure not, and tears do but allay 
Griefs for a time, which after more abound. 

To seek for moisture in the Arabian sand 

Is but a loss of labour and of rest : 
The links which time did break of hearty bands 

Words cannot knit, or wailings make anew. 

Seek not the sun in clouds when it is set. . . . 
On highest mountains, where those cedars grew. 

Against whose banks the troubled ocean beat, 

And were the marks to find thy hoped port. 
Into a soil far off themselves remove. 

On Sestus' shore, Leander's late resort. 
Hero hath left no lamp to guide her love. 

Thou lookest for light in vain, and storms arise ; 
She sleeps thy deaths that erst thy danger sighed; 


Strive then no more ; bow down thy weary eyes — 
Eyes which to all these woes thy heart have 

She is gone, she is lost, she is found, she is ever fair : 
Sorrow draws weakly, where love draws not too : 

Woe's cries sound nothing, but only in love's ear. 
Do then by dying what life cannot do. 

Unfold thy flocks and leave them to the fields. 
To feed on hills, or dales, where likes them best, 

Of what the summer or the spring-time yields, 
For love and time hath given thee leave to rest. 

Thy heart which was their fold, now in decay 
By often storms and winter's many blasts, 

All torn and rent becomes misfortune's prey ; 
False hope my shepherd's staff, now age hath 

My pipe, which love's own hand gave my desire 
To sing her praises and my woe upon, — 

Despair hath often threatened to the fire. 
As vain to keep now all the rest are gone. 

Thus home I draw, as death's long night draws on ; 

Yet every foot, old thoughts turn back mine eyes: 
Constraint me guides, as old age draws a stono 

Against the hill, which over- weighty lies 

For feeble arms or wasted strength to move : 
My steps are backward, gazing on my loss. 

My mind's afiection and my soul's sole love. 
Not mixed with fancy's chafi* or fortune's dross. 


To God I leave it, who first gave it me, 
And I her gave, and she returned again. 

As it was hers ; so let His mercies be 
Of my last comforts the essential mean. 

But be it 80 or not, the effects are past ; 
Her love hath end ; my woe must ever last. 

The end of the books of the " Ocean's Love to Cynthia,** 
and the beginning of the 22nd book, entreating of Sorrow. 

My days' delights, my spring-time joys fordone, 
Which in the dawn and rising sun of youth 
Had their creation, and were first begun. 

Do in the evening and the winter sad 
Present my mind, which takes my time's accoimt. 
The grief remaining of the joy it had. 

My times that then ran o'er themselves in these. 
And now run out in other's happiness. 

Bring unto those new joys and new-bom days. 

So could she not if she were not the sun. 

Which sees the birth and burial of all else. 
And holds that power with which she first b^;un. 

Leaving each withered body to be torn 
By fortune, and by times tempestuous, 

Which, by her virtue, once fair fruit have bom ; 

Knowing she can renew, and can create 
Green from the ground, and flowers even out of stone. 
By virtue lasting over time and date, 

Leaving us only woe, which, like the moss. 
Having compassion of unburied bones. 
Cleaves to mischance, and unrepaired loss. 

For tender stalks — 

(MS. abruptly ends here.) 

62 THE rosss OF 




HAD trath power, the guiltless could 

Maliee win gl^ry, m revenge triumph ; 
But truth alone cannot encounter all. 

Merej is fled to God, which mercy made ; 
CompassiQn dead ; faith turned to policy ; 

Friends know not those who sit in sorrow's shade. 

For what we sometime were, we are no more : 
Fortune hath changed our shape, and destiny 
DefiEUied the very form we had before. 

All love, and all desert of former times, 

Malice hath covered from my sovereign's eyes, 

And largely laid abroad supposed crimes. 

But kings call not to mind what vassals were, 
But know them now, as envy hath described them : 
So can I look on no side from despair. 

* Hawthornden MSS. in tlie Library of the Antiqaarian 
Society of Scotland ; vol. viii. '* Drummond Miscellanies," 
II. First printed by Mr. D. Laing in "Archisol. Scot.," 
vol. iv. pp. 236-8. The original title rune: " S. W. 
^-•"hlies Petition to the Qaeene. 1618." 


Cold walls ! to you I speak ; but you are senseless : 

Celestial Powers I you hear, but have determined, 

And shall determine^ to my greatest happiness. 

Then unto whom shall I unfold my wrong, 
Cast down my tears, or hold up folded hands ? 
To Her, to whom remorse doth most belong ; 

To Her who is the first, and may alone 
Be justly called the Empress of the Bretancs. 
Who should have mercy if a Queen have none? 

Save those that would have died for your defence ! 
Save him whose thoughts no treason ever tainted ! 
For lo ! destruction is no recompense. 

If I have sold my duty, sold my faith 
To strangers, which was only due to One ; 
Nothing I should esteem so dear as death. 

But if both Qod and Time shall make you know 
That I, your humblest vassal, am oppressed. 
Then cast your eyes on undeserved woe ; 

That I and mine may never mourn the miss 
Of Her we had, but praise our living Queen, 
Who brings us equal, if not greater, bliss. 







YEN such is time, that takes in trust 

Our youth, our joys, our all we have, 
And pays us but with earth and dust ; 
Who, in the dark and silent grave, 
When we have wandered all our ways, 
Shuts up the story of our days ; 
But from this earth, this grave, this dust, 
My God shall raise me up, I trust ! 

W. R. 

' Printed with Raleigh *8 "Prerogative of Parliaments," 
1628, and probably stiU earlier; also with "To-day a Man, 
To-morrow none/' 1643-4; in Raleigh's *< Remains," 1661, 
&c., with the title given above; and in ''Rel. Wotton.*' 
1651, &c., with the title, <* Sir Walter Raleigh the night 
before his death.*' Also found with several variations in 
many old MS. copies. 





|HIS made him write in a glass window, 
obvious to the Clueen's eye — 

" * Fain would I climb^ yet fear I to fall.* 

Her Majesty, either espying or being 
shown it, did under-write — 

* If thy heart fails thee, climb not at all.' " ' 



" SiE Wa. Rawley made this rhyme upon the 
name of a gallant, one Mr. Noel : — 

" Noe. L. 
" ' The word of denial and the letter of fifty 
Makes the gentleman's name that will never be 

" And Noel's answer : — 

"'Raw. Ly. 
" The foe to the stomach and the word of disgrace 
Shews the gentleman's name with the boldface.'"^ 

» Fuller, " Worthiea of England," Devonshire, p. 261. 

s Manningham's << Diary," under date Dec. 30, 1602; 
Camden Society edition, p. 109; and Collier's **Hi8t Dram. 
Poetry,** i. 336, note. Somewhat different in MS. Malone 
19. p. 42. 


In vain mine eyes, in vain you waste your tears ; 
In vain my sighs, the smokes of my despairs ; 
In vain you search the earth and heavens above ; 
In vain ye seek ; for Fortune keeps my love.^ 


With wisdom's eyes had but blind fortune seen, 
Then had my love, my love for ever been.* 


Epitaph on thb Eabl of Leicestbb.' 

(Died Sept. 4, 1588.) 

Hebe lies the noble warrior that never blunted 

sword ; 
Here lies the noble courtier that never kept his 

Here lies his excellency that governed all the state ; 
Here lies the L. of Leicester that all the world did 


Wa. Ra. 


Epitaph on the Eabl op Salisbuby.* 

(Died May 24, 1612.) 

Hebe lies Hobbinol, our pastor whilere, 
That once in a quarter our fleeces did sheer. 

' Pattenbam*8 '* Art of English Poesie," 1589, p. 165, 
as *' this written by Sir Walter Raleigh of his greatest 
mistress in most excellent verses." 

* Puttenham, ibid., p. 167, as " that of Sir Walter 
Raleigh's very sweet." 

* Collier's "Bibliographical Catalogue," vol. ii. p. 222. 
from a Bridgewater MS. It is anonymous in the Hawthorn- 
den MSS.; and in a shorter form in MS. Ashm. 38, p. 181. 

* Shirley's "Life of Raleigh," p. 28, folio. 


To please us his cur he kept under clog. 

And was ever after both shepherd and dog. 

For oblation to Pan his custom was thus : — 

He first gave a trifle, then offered up us. 

And through his false worship such power he did 

As kept him o' th' mountain and us on the plain : 
Where many a hornpipe he tuned to his Phyllis, 
And sweetly sung Walsingham to 's Amaryllis. 

(Two lines omitted.) 

A Poem put into my Lady Laiton'b Pocket 
BY Sm Walter Raleigh.^ 

Lady, farewell, whom I in silence serve ! 

Would God thou knewest the depth of my desire ! 
Then mought I wish, though nought I can deserve, 

Some drops of grace to slake my scalding fire ; 
But sith to live alone I have decreed, 
I'll spare to speak, that I may spare to speed ! 


Sm W. Ealeigh on the Snupp of a Candle 
THE Night before he Died.^ 

Cowards [may] fear to die ; but courage stout. 
Rather than live in snuff, will be put out. 

' Chetham MS., 8012, p. 85; erased, but still legible. 
* Raleigh*! «« Remains,'' p. 253, edition 1661, &c. 



occuBBiva nr Bm IT. baleigh's histoby of 


I. BOOK I. CH. I. § 6. 
Virgil, -fflneid, vi. 724-7. 

^HE heaven and earth and all the liquid 
The moon's bright globe and stars 

A spirit within maintains ; and their whole mass 
A mind, which through each part infused doth pass, 
Fashions and works, and whoUy doth transpierce 
All this great body of the universe. 

n. BOOK I. CH. I. § 7. 
Ovid, Metam. iv. 226-8. 

The world discerns itself, while I the world behold ; 
By me the longest years and other times are told ; 
I, the world's eye. 

m. BOOK I. CH. I. § 11. 
Ovid, Trist. iii. vi. 18; and Juvenal, vii. 201. 

'Gainst fate no counsel can prevail. 
Kingdoms to slaves by destiny. 
To captives triumphs given be. 


IV. BOOK I. CH. I. § 15. 
Athensus ( ? Agathon : cf. Ar. Eth. N. vL 4). 

Fbov wisdom fortune differs far ; 
And yet in works most like they are. 

y. BOOK I. CH. I. § 15. 
Ovid, Reined. Am. 119. 

While fury gallops on the way, 
Let no man fury's gallop stay. 

TI. BOOK I. CH. n. § 1. 
Ovid, MeUm. i. 76-8. 

MoBE holy than the rest, and understanding more, 
A living creature wants, to rule all made hefore ; 
So man began to be. 

Vn. BOOK I. CH. n. § 3. 
Marios Victor, de perversis suie at, moribos Epist. 30-33. 

Diseases, famine, enemies, in us no change have 

wrought 5 
What erst we were, we are ; still in the same snare 
No time can our corrupted manners mend ; 
In vice we dwell, in sin that hath no end. 


vni. BOOK I. CH. n. § s. 

Ovid, Metam. i. 414*5. 

Fbok thence our kind hard-hearted is^ enduring 

pain and care ; 
Approving that our bodies of a stony nature are. 

IX. BOOK I. CH. II. § 6. 
Albinovanuai Kleg. de ob. Msec. 113-4. 

The plants and trees made poor and old 

By winter envious, 

The spring-time bounteous 
Covers again from shame and cold ; 
But never man repaired again 

His youth and beauty lost, 

Though art and care and cost 
Do promise nature's help in vain. 

X. BOOK I. CH. n. § 5. 
Catull. Carm. v. 4-6. 

The sun may set and rise ; 
But we, contrariwise, 
Sleep after our short light 
One everlasting night. 

XI. BOOK I. CH. ni. § 3. 

Ovid, Metam. i. 61-2. • 

The East wind with Aurora hath abiding 

Among the Arabian and the Persian hills, 
Whom Phoobus first salutes at his uprising. 


xn. BOOK I. CH. m. § 3. 
Ovid, Metam. i. 107-8. 

The joyful spring did ever last, and Zephyrus did 

Sweet flowers by his gentle blast, without the help 

of seed. 

Xin. BOOK I. CH. IV. § 2. 
Virgil, ^ueid I. 490-1. 

The Amazon with crescent-formed shield 
Penthesilea leads into the field. 

XrV. BOOK I. CH. V. § 6. 
Lucan, Pharsal. iv. S73-8, 380-1. 

WASTEFUL riot, never well content 
With low-priced fare ; hunger ambitious 

Of cates by land and sea far fetched and sent ; 
Vain glory of a table sumptuous ; 

Learn with how little life may be preserved. 
In gold and myrrh they need not to carouse ; 

But with the brook the people's thirst is served, 

Who, fed with bread and water, are not star\'ed. 

XV, BOOK I. CH. V. § 8. 
John Cassam out of Orpheus, Fragm. L. from Etym. M. 

Fboh the earth and from thy blood, heaven, they 

Whom thereupon the gods did giants name. 


XVI. BOOK I. CH. VI. § 8. 
Anazandr. Rhod. ap. Natal. Com. I. 7; p. 12, ed. 1612. 

I SACRIFICE to God the beef which you adore ; 
I broil the Egyptian eels, which you as God implore; 
You fear to eat the flesh of swine ; I find it sweet ; 
You worship dogs ; to beat them I think meet, 
When they my store devour. 

XVn. BOOK I. CH. VI. § 3. 
JuSenal, xv. 9-11. 

The Egyptians think it sin to root up or to bite 
Their leeks or onions, which they serve with holy 
happy nations, which of their own sowing 
Have store of gods in every garden growing I 

XVni. BOOK I. CH. VI. § 4. 
Ovid, Metam. i. 150. 

AsTBJSA last of heavenly wights the earth did leave. 

XIX. BOOK I. CH. VI. § 4. 
Cornelius Severus, ^tna, 43-5. 

The giants did advance their wicked hand 

Against the stars, to thrust them headlong down ; 
And, robbing Jove of his imperial crown. 

On conquered heavens to lay their proud command. 


BOOK. L CH. TL § 5. 
Ljeophroo, Alexandr. 1200. 

Satihut to be the latter is not known. 
By being the grave and burial of his own. 

ZXI. BOOK I. CH. TI. § 5. 
SibrDa, m. p. 227, ed. Paris, 1599. 

Thivos thus agreed. Titan made Saturn swear 
No son to nourish ; which by reigning might 
Usurp the right of Titan's lawful heir. 

XXn. BOOK I. CH. VI. § 5. 
Callim. fi'c rhv Am, 8, 9. 

The Cretans ever Uars were ; they care not what 

they say ; 
For they a tomb have built for thee, king that 

livest alway. 

XXm. BOOK I. CH. VI. § 7. 
Enrip. Fngm. Melanipp. vi. Dind. 

Heaven and earth one form did bear ; 
But when disjoined once they were 

From mutual embraces, 
All things to light appeared then ; 
Of trees, birds, beasts, fishes, and men 

The still remaining races. 


XXIV. BOOK I. CH. VI. § 7« 

Orpheus to Masseus ; Frairm. i. from Just. Mart, 
Cohort, ad Gent. 15. 

Then marking this my sacred speech, but truly lend 
Thy heart that's reason's sphere, and the right way 

And see the world's sole king. First, He is simply 

Begotten of Himself, from whom is born alone 
All else, in which He's still ; nor could it e'er befall 
A mortal eye to see Him once, yet He sees all. 

XXV. BOOIC I. CH. VI. § 7. 
Id. Fragm. vi. from Proclus. 

Thb first of all is God, and the same last is He. 
God is the head and midst; yea, from Him all 

things be. 
God is the base of earth and of the starred sk}^ ; 
He is the male and female too ; shall never die. 
The spirit of all is God ; the sun and moon and 

what is higher ; 
The king, the original of all, of all the end : 
For close in holy breast He all did comprehend ; 
Whence all to blessed light His wondrous power 

did send. 

XXVI. BOOK I. CH. VII. § 2. 
Ovid, Metam. xv. 293-4. 

Bt7BA and Helice on Achaian ground 

Are sought in vain, but under sea are found. 


IXVIL. BOOK I. CH. Vn. § S* 
Virgil, ^neid, viii. 318-23. 

Satubn descending from the heavens high^ 
Fearing the arms of Jupiter his son^ 

His kingdom lost^ and banished, thence doth fly. 
Rude people on the mountain tops he won 

To live together, and by laws ; which done, 
He chose to call it Latium. 

xxvin, BOOK I. CH, vn. § 3. 

Virgil, i£aeid, viil. 328. 

Thbv came the Ausonian bands and the Sicanian 

XXIX. BOOK I. CH. vn. § 7. 

Orid, Fasti, i. 103-4. 

The ancients called me Chaos ; my great years 
By those old times of which I sing appears. 

XXX. BOOK I. CH. Vm. § 8. 

TibuU. Eleg. i. vii. 20. 
Ttktjs knew first how ships might use the wind. 

XXXI. BOOK I. CH. vni. § 3. 
Lncan, Pharsal. iv. 131-5. 

The moistened osier of the hoary willow 
Is woven first into a little boat ; 


Then, clothed in bullock's hide, upon the billow 
Of a proud river lightly doth it float 

Under the waterman : 
So on the lakes of overswelling Po 
Sails the Venetian ; and the Briton so 
On the outspread ocean. 

XXXII. BOOK X. CH. Vm. § 4. 
Apollon. Rhod. Argonaut, ii. 1004-6. 

Thb Ghalybes plough not their barren soil, 
But undermine high hills for iron veins ; 

Changing the purchase of their endless toil 
For merchandize, which their poor lives sustains. 

xxxin. BOOK I. CH. vni. § n. f 2. 

Ovid, Fasti, n. 289-90. 

Tfe Arcadians the earth inhabited 

Ere yet the moon did shine, or Jove was bred. 

XXXIV. BOOK I. CH. X. § 2. 
Ovid, Metam. iv. 57-8. 

Semieamis with walls of brick the city did enclose. 

XXXV. BOOK I. CH. X. § 7. 
Sedulius, i. 226-31. 

Ah ! wretched they that worship vanities. 
And consecrate dumb idols in their heart ; 

Who their own maker, God on high, despise. 
And fear the work of their own hands and art ! 

SIR WAttER RAtEIGtt. 67 

What fiiry, what great madness, doth beguile 
Men's minds, that man should ugly shapes adore. 

Of birds or bulls or dragons, or the vilo 

Half-dog, half-man, on knees for aid implore ! 

XXXVI. BOOK I. CH. XI. § 7. 
Cic. De Divin. ii. 56, et a1. 

If Ca(Esus over Halys go. 

Great kingdoms he shall overthrow. 

XXXVn. BOOK I. CH. XI. § 8. 
Lucretius, ii. 54-5. 

Wb fear by light, as children in the dark. 

XXXVni. BOOK II. CH. VI. § 4. 
Machylus, P. V. 456-61. 

But fortune governed all their works, till when 
I first found out how stars did set and rise,-* 

A profitable art to mortal men. 

And others of like iise I did devise : 
As letters to compose in learned wise 

I first did teach, and first did amplify 

The mother of the Muses, Memory. 

XXXIX. BOOK II. en. VI. § 6. 
Ovid. Metam. I. 322-3. 

No man was better nor more just than he, 
Nor any woman godlicr than she. 


XL. BOOK n. CH. VII. § 3. t 3* 
Sidonlasy Carm. xvii. 15, 16. 

I HAVE no wine of Gaza nor Falerna wine. 
Nor any for thy drinking of Sarepta's vine. 

XLI. BOOK II. CH. VII. § 4. f 6. 
Virgil, Georg. ii. 448 

Of yew the Iturseans' bows were made. 

ZLII. BOOK n. CH. VIII. § 1. 
Virgil, iBneid, i. 728-30. 

The queen anon commands the weighty bowl, 
Weighty with precious stones and mascfy gold, 
To flow with wine. This Belus used of old. 
And all of Belus' line. 

XLIII. BOOK n. CH. vin. § 1. 

Lucan, PharsaL iii. 220-1. 

Ph(enicians first, if fame may credit have. 
In rude characters dared our words to grave. 

XLIV. BOOK II. CH. Vni. § 1. 

Diog. Laert. vii. 30. 

If a Phoenician bom I am, what then ? 
Cadmus was so ; to whom Greece owes 
The books of learned men. 


XLV. BOOK II. CH. X. § 2. 
Tibnlliu, L viL 18. 

Thb white dove is for holy held in Syria Palestine. 
XLYi. booe: n. ch. xiii. § 8. 

Ovid, Am. n. ii. 43*4. 

HsBB Tantalus in water seeks for water, and doth 

The fleeting fruit he catcheth at; his long tongue 

brought him this. 

xLvn booe: ii. ch. xni. § 8. 

H<.race, Sat. i. i. 68-70. 

The thirsting Tantalus doth catch at streams that 

from him flee ; 
Why laughest thou ? The name but changed, the 

tale is told of thee. 


Natolis Com. p. 627, ed. 1612, out of Pindar, 01. i. 60-63. 

Because that, stealing immortality, 

He did both nectar and ambrosia give 

To guests of his own age to make them live. 

TibnllQs, I. iii. 75-6, out of Homer, Od. xi. 576. 

Nine furlongs stretched lies Tityus, who for his 

wicked deeds 
The hungry birds with his renewing liver daily 



L. BOOK n. CH. XIII. § 8. 
Ovid, Heroid. xvi. 179-80. 

Stboko Ilion thou shalt see with walls and towers 

Built with the harp of wise Apollo's harmony. 

LI. BOOK U. CH. XIII. § 4. 
Horace, Od. iii. xvi. 1-11. 


The brazen tower, with doors close barbed, 
And watchful bandogs' frightful guards 

Kept safe the maidenhead 
Of Danao from secret love, 
Till smiling Venus and wise Jove 

Beguiled her father's dread : 
For, changed into a golden shower, 
The god into her lap did pour 

Himself and took his pleasure. 
Through guards and stony waUs to break 
The thunderbolt is far more weak 

Than is a golden treasure. 

Lucretius, v. 325-8. 

If all this world had no original, 

But things have ever been as now they are 
Before the siege of Thebes or Troy's last fall, 

Why did no poet sing some elder war ? 


LIII. BOOK n. CH. XIV. § 1. 
Virgil, ^neid, iii. 104-12. 

In the main sea the isle of Crete doth lie. 
Whence Jove was horn ; thence is our progeny. 
There is Mount Ida ; there in fruitful land 
An hundred great and goodly cities stand. 
Thence, if I follow not mistaken fame, 
Teucer, the eldest of our grandsires, came 
To the Rhoetean shores, and reigned there 
Ere yet fair Ilion was built, and ere 
The towers of Troy. Their dwelling-place they 

In lowest vales. Hence Cybers rites were brought; 
Hence Corybantian cymbals did remove ; 
And hence the name of our Idsean grove. 

LIV. BOOK II. CH. XIV. § 1. 
Virgil, i£neid, m. 163-8. 

Hespebia the Grecians call the place, — 
An ancient fruitful land, a warlike race. 
(Enotrians held it ; now the later progeny 
Gives it their captain's name, and calls it Italy. 
This seat belongs to us ; hence Dardanus, 
Hence came the author of our stock, lasius. 

LV. BOOK II. CH. XIV. § 1. 
Virgil, ^neid, vii. 205-11. 

Some old Auruncans, I remember well — 
Though time have made the fame obscure— would 


Of Dardanus, how bom in Italy ; 

From hence he into Phrygia did fly. 

And leaving Tuscane, where he erst had place. 

With Cory thus did sail to Samothrace ; 

But now enthronized he sits on high. 

In golden palace of Uie starry sky. 

LVI. BOOK n. CH. XIV. § 1. 
Horace, Od. tv. ix. 25-8. 

Many by valour have deserved renown 
Ere Agamemnon, yet lie all oppressed . 

Under long night, imwept for and unknown ; 
For with no sacred poet were they blest. 

LVn. BOOK II. CH. XXI, § 6. 
Horace, Od. ni. iv. 45-8. 

Who rules the duller earth, the wind-sw(»llcn 

The civil cities and the infernal realms, 
Who the host of heaven and the mortal band 
Alone doth govern by his just command. 

LVin. BOOK II. CH. XXII. § 6. 

Ausonius, Epigr. cxvin. 

I AM that Dido which thou here dost see, 
Cunningly framed in beauteous imagery. 
Like this I was, but had not such a soul 
As Maro feigned, incestuous and foul. 
Mneaa never with his Trojan host 
Beheld my face, or landed on this coast. 


But flying proud larbas' villainy — 

Not moved by furious love or jealousy — 

I did^ with weapon chaste, to save my fame, 

Make way for death untimely ere it came. 

This was my end. But first I built a town, 

Revenged my husband's death, lived with renown. 

Why didst thou stir up Virgil, envious Muse, 

Falsely my name and honour to abuse ? 

Headers, believe historians ; not those 

Which to the world Jove's thefts and vice expose. 

Poets are liars ; and for verses' sake, 

Will make the gods of human crimes partake. 

LDC. BOOK n. CH. XXIII. § 4. 

Horace, Od. ni. xxiv. 36-41. 

Nob southern heat nor northern snow, 
That freezing to the ground doth grow. 
The subject regions can fence, • 
And keep the greedy merchant thence. 
The subtie shipmen way will find, 
Storm never so the seas with wind. 

Horace, Od. rv. ii. 17, 18. 

Such as like heavenly wights do come 
With an Elean garland home. 

Lxi. BOOK n. CH. xxrv. § 1. (Compare No. liv.) 

Virgil, ^neid, i. 530-3. 

There is a land which Greeks Hesperia name. 
Ancient and strong, of much fertility ; 


(Enotrians held it; but we hear by fame. 
That, by late ages of posterity, 
'Tis from a captain's name called Italy. 

Jayenal, Yiii. 272-5. 

Ybt, though thou fetch thy pedigree so far, 

Thy first progenitor, whoe'er he were, 

Some shepherd was ; or else — that Til forbear. 

LXIII. BOOK in. CH. VII. § 3. 
Horace, Od. lu. il. 31-2. 

Selboh the villain, though much haste he make, 
Lame-footed vengeance fails to overtake. 

LXIV. BOOK IV. CH. I. § 5. 
Horace, Od. uz. xvi. 13-15. 

Bt gifts the Macedon clave gates asunder, 
The kings envying his estate brought under. 

LXV. BOOK IV. CH. II. § 8. 
Homer, Od. xviii. 135-6. 

The minds of men are ever so affected 
As by God's will they daily are directed. 

LXVT. BOOK IV. CH. II, § 15. 
Claudian in Eutrop. i. 321-3. 

OvEB the Medes and light Sabseans reigns 

This female sex ; and under arms of Queen 
Great part of the Barbarian land remains. 


LXVn. BOOK V. CH. II. § 1, 

Juvenal, yiu. 121-2. 

Hate special care that valiant poverty 
Be not oppressed with too great injury. 

LXVIII. BOOK V. CH. VI. § 11. 
Pausan. (vii) xii. vol. iii. p. 182> Siebelis. 

Okb fire than other burns more forcibly ; 

One wolf than other wolves does bite more sore ; 
One hawk than other hawks more swifb doth fly; 

So one most mischievous of men before, 
Callicrates, false knave as knave might be. 
Met with Menalcidas, more false than he.^ 

LXIX. BOOK V. CH. VI. § 13. 

Juvenal, x. 96-7. 

EvEK they that have no murderous will 
Would have it in their power to kill. 

^ "A bye-word, taken up among the Achasans, whenas that 
mischievous Callicrates, who had been too hard for all 
worthy and viVtnous men, was beaten at his own weapon, 
by one of his own condition." 




(Before 1576.) 

WEET were the joys that both might 
like and laJst; 
Strange were the state exempt from 
all distress; 
Happy the life that no mishap should taste ; 

Blessed the chance might never change success. 
Were such a life to lead or state to prove, 
Who would not wish that such a life were love ? 

But oh ! the soury sauce of sweet unsure, 

When pleasures flit, and fly with waste of wind* 

The trustless trains that hoping hearts allure, 
When sweet delights do but allure the mind ; 

When care consumes and wastes the wretched wight. 

While fancy feeds and draws of her delight. 

' This and the next five poems are placed last, because I 
cannot satisfy myself that the evidence is conclusive in 
Raleigh's favour. But I do not exclude them altogether, 
because in each case there is some evidence which others 
have accepted, and no stronger claim has been set up for any 
other person. 

5* "Paradise of Dainty Devices," 1576, signed " W. R." 
in ed. 1578 ; see Collier's reprint, p. 20, and " Bibl. Cat.," 
vol. i. p. 245; signed « W. Hunnis" in editions 1580 and 
1596, where it is N^^. 12; in other editions signed <*£. &" 


What life were love, if love were free from pain ? 

But oh that pain with pleasure matched should 
Why did the course of nature so ordain 

That sugared sour must sauce the bitter sweet ? 
Which sour from sweet might any means remove, 
What hap, what heaven, what life, were like to love I 



Before 1593.) 

RAISED be Diana's fair and harmless 
Praised be the dews wherewith she 
moists the ground ; 
Praised be her beams, the glory of the night ; 
Praised be her power, by which all powers abound. 

Praised be her nymphs, with whom she decks the 
Praised be her knights, in whom true honour lives ; 

* In *< England's Helicon," 1600, Raleigh's initials were 
first affixed, but were obliterated by pasting over them a slip 
of paper with the word '* Ignoto." The piece is marked 
**W, R." in F. Davison's catalogue of the poems contained 
in « England's Helicon/' Harl. MS. 280, fol. 99. It is 
anonymous in the **Pha9nix Nest," 1593, p. 6^. 


Praised be that force, by which she moves the floods * 
Let that Diana shine which all these gives. 

In heaven queen she is among the spheres ; 

She mistress-like makes all things to be pure ; 
Eternity in her oft change she bears ; 

She beauty is ; by her the fair endure. 

Time wears her not ; she doth his chariot guide ; 

Mortality below her orb is placed ; 
By her the virtues of the stars down slide ; 

In her is virtue's perfect image cast. 

'A knowledge pure it is her worth to know : 
With Circes let them dwell that think not so. 

[S. W. R.] Ignoto. 




(Before 1600.) 


5HEPHERD, what's love, I pray thee 
Fan, It is that fountain and that 

Where pleasure and repentance dwell ; 
It is perhaps that sauncing bell 

* In " England's Helicon " 1600, with the first sifcnature 
obliterated, as in No. xxvi., and ascribed to ** S. W. 
Rawly" in F. Davison's list, Harl. MS. 280, fo]. 99. It is 


That tolls all into heaven or hell ; 
And this is love as I heard tell. 

Meli. Yet what is love, I prithee say ? 
Fau. It is a work on holiday ; 

It is Decemher matched with May, 
When lusty bloods, in fresh array. 
Hear ten months after of the play ; 
And this is love as I hear say. 

Mdi. Yet what is love, good shepherd, sain ? 
Fau, It is a sunshine mixed with rain ; 
It is a tooth-ache, or like pain ; 
It is a game where none doth gain ; 
The lass saith no, and would full fain ; 
And this is love, as I hear sain. 

Melt, Yet, shepherd, what is love, I pray ? 
Fau, It is a yea, it is a nay, 

A pretty kind of sporting fray ; 
It is a thing wiU soon away ; 
Then, nymphs, take Vant^e while ye may ; 
And this is love, as I hear say. 

MelL Yet what is love, good shepherd, show ? 
Fau, A thing that creeps ; it cannot go ; 
A prize that passeth to and fro ; 
A thing for one, a thing for moe ; 
And he that proves shall find it so ; 
And, shepherd, this is love, I trow. 

[S. W. R.] Igkoto. 

anonjmoas in Davison's '' Poetical Rhapsody/' 1602, &c, 
as " The Anatomy of Love,'' with no distinction of dialogue, 
and the first line running, **Now what is love, I pray thee 
tell ? " An imperfect copy of the first and last stanzas form 
''the third song" in T. Heywood's "Rape of Lucrece," 
1608, &c. 




S you came from the holy land 
Of Walsinghame^ 
Met you not with my true love 
By the way as you came ? 

How shall I know your true love, 

That have met many one, 
As I went to the holy land, 

That have come, that have gone ? 

She is neither white nor brown. 

But as the heavens fair ; 
There is none hath a form so divine 

In the earth or the air. 

Such a one did I meet, good sir. 

Such an angelic face, 
Who like a queen, like a nymph, did appear. 

By her gate, by her grace. 

' MS. Rawl. 85, fol. 124; signed as infrat and hence 
claimed for Raleigh by Dr. Bliss, Wood's ** A. O.," vol. ii., 
p. 248, and inserted in the Oxford edition of Raleigh's 
" Works," vol. viii. p. 733, with the title " False Love and 
True Love." There is an anonymous copy in Percy's MS., 
vol. iii., p. 465, ed. Famivall : and it is also in Deloney's 
" Garland of Goodwill," p. Ill, Percy Society reprint 


She hath left me here all alone^ 

All alone, as unknown, 
Who sometimes did me lead with herself^ 

And me loved as her own. 

What's the cause that she leaves you alone^ 

And a new way doth take, 
Who loved you once as her own, 

And her joy did you make ? 

I have loved her all my youth, 

But now old, as you see : 
Love likes not the falling fruit 

From the withered tree. 

Know that Love is a careless child, 

And forgets promise past ; 
He is blind, he is deaf when he list. 

And in faith never fast. 

iiis desire is a durcless content. 

And a trustless joy ; 
He is won vsrith a world of despair, 

And is lost with a toy. 

Of womenkind such indeed is the love, 

Or the word love abused. 
Under which many childish desires 

And conceits are excused. 

But true love is a durable fire, 

In the mind ever burning, 
Never sick, never old, never dead. 

From itself never turning. 

Sb. W. R, 




ALL I, like an hermit, dwell 
On a rock or in a cell, 
Calling home the smallest part 
That is missing of my heart. 
To bestow it, where I may 
Meet a rival every day ? 
If she imdervalue me. 
What care I how fair she be ? 

Were her tresses angel-gold. 
If a stranger may be bold 
Unrobuked, unafraid. 
To convert them to a braid. 
And, with little more ado. 
Work them into bracelets too ; 

If the mine be grown so free, 

What care I how rich it be ? 

Were her hand as rich a prize 

As her hairs or precious eyes. 

If she lay them out to take 

Kisses for good manners' sake. 

And let every lover skip 

From her hand unto her lip ; 
If she seem not chaste to me. 
What care I how chaste she be ? 

' *' London Magazine/' August, 1734, p. 444, entitled aa 
above. Mentioned on that authority only, by Oldys and 
(apparently) Ritson, and appended to Raleigh's ** Life " by 


No ; she must be perfect snow. 
In effect as well as show ; 
Wanning but as snow-balls do, 
Not, like fire, by burning too ; 
But when she by change hath got 
To her heart a second lot. 

Then, if others share with me. 

Farewell her, whate'er she be ! 




;HIL£S I admire thy first and second 
Long ten years wandering in the 
world-wide bounds ; 
I rest amazed to think on these assays 

That thy first travel to the world forth sounds : 
In bravest sense, compendious ornate style, 
Didst show most rare adventures to this isle. 

And now thy second pilgrimage I see 
At London thou resolvest to put in light ; 

Thy Libyan ways, so fearful to the eye. 

And Garamants their strange amazing sight. 

* Prefixed to Lithgow's *< Pilgrim's Farewell/' 1618. 


Meanwhile this work affords a three-fold gain 
In fury of thy fierce Castalian vein ; 
As thou for travels brookest the greatest name^ 
So voyage on^ increase, maintain the same ! 

W. R. 








(Before 1602.) 

FAITHLESS world, and thy most 
faithless part, 

A woman's heart ! 
The true shop of variety, where sits 
Nothing but fits 
And fevers of desire, and pangs of love. 

Which toys remove. 
Why was she born to please ? or I to trust 

Words writ in dust, 
Suffering her eyes to govern my despair. 
My pain for air ; 

» " Rel. Wotton." Also in Davison's " Poetical Rhapsody," 
1602, &c., with Wotton's initials, as ''an Elegy." In ed. 
1621 , p. 202, it has the longer title, " Of a Woman's Heart." 
Wrongly claimed for Rudyard in the ** Poems of Pembroke 
and Rudyard," 1660, p. 34. A copy in MS. Rawl. Poet 
147, p. 74, signed " H. Wotton." 


And fruit of time rewarded with untruth^ 

The food of youth? 
Untrue she was ; yet I believed her eyes, 

Instructed spies, 
Till I was taught, that love was but a school 

To breed a fool. 
Or sought she more, by triumphs of denial, 

To make a trial 
How far her smiles commanded my weakness ? 

Yield, and confess ! 
Excuse no more thy folly ; but, for cure. 

Blush and endure 
As well thy shame as passions that were vain ; 

And think, 'tis gain. 
To know that love lodged in a woman's breast^ 

Is but a guest. 

H. W. 




OBLE, lovely, virtuous creature, 
Purposely so framed by nature, 

To enthral your servant's wits : 
Wo. Time must now unite our hearts. 
Not for any my deserts. 

But because methinks it fits. 

1 « 

Rel. Wotton." 


Ho. Dearest treasure of my thought. 
And yet wert thou to be bought 
With my life thou wert not dear : 
Wo, Secret comfort of my mind, 
Doubt no longer to be kind, 
But be so, and so appear. 

Ho. Give me love for love again ; 

Let our loves be clear and plain ; 

Heaven is fairest, when 'tis clearest : 
Wo, Lest in clouds and in differing, 
We resemble seamen erring. 

Farthest off when we are nearest. 

Ho, Thus with numbers interchanged, 

Wotton's muse and mine have ranged ; 
Verse and journey both are spent : 
Wo, And if Hoskins chance to say. 
That we well have spent the day, 
I, for my part, am content, 

H. W. 


(Circ. 1614.) 

OW happy is he bom and taught 

That serveth not another's will; 
Whose armour is his honest thought, 
And simple truth his utmost skill ; 

* " Rel. Wotton." Said to have been printed in 1614, with 
Overbury's "Wife," &c.; traced at Dulwich with the date 


Whose passions not his masters are ; 

Whose soul is srill prepared for deatli. 
Untied unto the world by care 

Of public fame or private breath ; 

Who envies none that chance doth raise, 
Nor vice ; who never understood 

How deepest wounds are given by praise ; 
Nor rules of state, but rules of good ; 

Who hath his life from rumours freed ; 

Whose conscience is his strong retreat ; 
Whose state can neither flatterers feed, 

Nor ruin make oppressors great ; q, ' - 

Who God doth late and early pray 
More of his grace than gifts to lend; 

And entertains the harmless day 
W^ith a religious book or friend. 

This man is freed from servile bands 
Of hope to rise or fear to fall : 

Lord of himself, though not of lands, 
And, having nothing, yet hath all. 


1616 ; and quoted as Wotton's to Drummond by Ben Jonson 
in 1619. Mr. Ck)llier has printed a copy from Ben Jonson 's 
handwriting, " Life of Alleyn,'* p. 53. Also as Wotton's in 
MS. Malone, 13, fol. 11 ; in MS. Malone, 19, p. 138; and 
in Clark's '* Aurea Leprenda," 1682, p. 96. There are 
many other old copies. Said to be almost iaentical with a 
German poem of the same age ; " Notes and Queries,*' vol. 
ix., p. 420. 





^TERNAL mover, whose diffused glory, 
To show our grovelling reason what 
Thou art, 
Unfolds itself in clouds of nature's story, 
Where man, thy proudest creature, acts his part. 
Whom jet, alas, I know not why, we call 
The world's contracted sum, the little all ; 

For what are we but lumps of walking clay ? 

Why should we swell? whence should our spirits 
rise ? 
Are not brute beasts as strongs and birds as gay, — 

Trees longer lived, and creeping things as wise ? 
Only our souls were left an inward light. 
To feel our weakness, and confess Thy might. 

Thou then, our strength, Father of life and death. 
To whom our thanks, our vows, ourselves we owe, 

> " Rel. Wotton." Erroneously ascribed to Sir Walter 
Raleigh, as written " in the unquiet rest of his kut nek- 
ness,** in ** Topographer,** vol. i. p. 425, on the authority of 
a Brit. Mus. MS. 


FVom moy Thy tenant of tcu$ £ftding breath, 

Aeeept those lines which from Thj goodness floWy 
And ThoOy that wert Thr rv^ Prophets muse, 
Do not Thy jvaise in veaker suains refuse ! 

Let these poor notes ssc^nd unto Thy throne. 
Where majeBty doth sic wich mercy crowned. 

Where my Redeemer lives, in whom alone 
The errors of my wandering life are drowned : 

Where all the ehoir of Heawn resound the same, 

That only Thine, Thine is the saving name ! 

Welly then, my soul* joy in the midst of pain ; 

Thy Christ, that conquered HeU,shaIl firom above 
^th greater triumph yet return again. 

And conquer His own justice with His love ; 
Commanding earth and seas to render those 
Unto His bliss, for whom He paid His woes. 

Now have I done ; now are my thoughts at peace ; 

And now my joys are stronger than my grief: 
I feel those comforts, that shall never cease. 

Future in hope, but present in belief: 
Thy words are true. Thy promises are just. 
And Thou wilt find Thy dearly-bought in dust ! 





(Oct. 18, 1615.) 

AZZLED thus with height of place. 
Whilst our hopes our wits b^uile 
No man marks the narrow space 
'Twixt a prison and a smile. 

Then, since Fortune's favours fade, 
You, that in her arms do sleep. 

Learn to swim, and not to wade ; 
For the hearts of kings are deep. 

But if greatness be so blind 

As to trust in towers of air. 
Let it be with goodness lined, 

That at least the fall be fair. 

Then, though darkened, you shall say, 
When friends fail and princes frown, 

Virtue is the roughest way, 

But proves at night a bed of down. 

H. W. 

> << Rel. Wotton." Also as Wotton's in Sancroft's MS.,Tann. 
465, fol. 61 verso; in MS. Rawl. Poet. 147, p. 97, with the 
erased title, '* Sr H. W. on ye Duke of Somer. ;" and in 
Clark's ** Aurea Legenda," 1682, p. 97. In some less 
authorized copies it is represented as addressed *'to the 
Lord Bacon, when falling from favour." See Park's Wal- 
pole, *< R. and N. A.," vol. ii p. 208, note ; and '* Notes and 
Queries," vol. i. p. 302. 




[NTIMELY fever, rude insulting guest. 
How didst thou with such unharmo- 
nious heat 
Dare to distune his weU-composed rest 
Whose heart so just and noble strokes did beat? 

What if his youth and spirits well may bear 
More thick assaults and stronger siege than this? 

We measure not his courage, but our fear : 

Not what ourselves, but what the times may miss. 

Had not that blood, which thrice his veins did yield. 
Been better treasured for some glorious day. 

At farthest West to paint the liquid field. 

And with new worlds his Master's love to pay? 

But let thoso thoughts, sweet Lord, repose awhile ; 

Tend only now thy vigour to regain ; 
And pardon these poor rhymes, that would beguile, 

With mine own grief, some portion of thy pain. 

H. W. 

* *« Rel. Wotton." In MS. Rawl. Poet. 147, p. 101, it is 
entitled **0n the Duke of Buckingham sick of a fever ;" and 
has tbe signature *' Sr. Henry Wotton." 





(aVc. 1620.) 

OU meaner beauties of the night, 
That poorly satisfy our eyes 
More by your number than your light, 
You common people of the skies ; 
What are you when the moon shall rise ? 

You curious chanters of the wood, 

That warble forth Dame Nature's lays, 

Thinking your passions understood 

By your weak accents ; what's your praise, 
When Philomel her voice shall raise ? 

You violets that first appear, 

By your pure purple mantles known 

Like the proud virgins of the year. 
As if the spring were all your own ; 
What are you when the rose is blown ? 

' *' Rel. Wotton." It was printed with music as early as 
1624, in Est's ** Sixth Set of Books," &c., and is found in 
many MSS., e.g, MS. Tann. 465, fol. 43, and MS. Malone 
19, p. 23, title, *'To the Spanish Lady;" i.e. the Infanta. 
Found also anonymously in " Wit's Recreations," 1640, and 
in " Wit's Interpreter," 1671, p. 267, and with a second 
part in "Cantus, Songs and Fancies," &c., Aberdeen, 1682 
(third edition). No. LIY. There are additional verses in 
several of these copies. 


80, when my mistress shall be seen 
In form and beauty of her mind. 

By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, 
Tell me if she were not designed 
The eclipse and glory of her kind ? 

H. W. 




(Died Nov. 1625.) 

JILENCE in truth would speak my sorrow 
For deepest wounds can least their 
feelings tell; 
Yet let me borrow from mine own unrest 
But time to bid him, whom I loved, farewell. 

my unhappy lines ! you that before 

Have served my youth to vent some wanton cries, 
And now, congealed with grief, can scarce implore 

Strength to accent, — Here my Albertus lies ! 

» " Rel. Wotton." and Walton's *'Life of Wotton.'* Also 
in MS.Rawl. Poet. 147, p. 107. 


This is the sable stone, — this is the cave 

And womb of earth that doth his corpse embrace ; 

While others sing his praise, let me engrave 
These bleeding numbers to adorn the place. 

Here will I paint the characters of woe ; 

Here will I pay my tribute to the dead ; 
And here my faithful tears in showers shall flow, 

To humanize the flints whereon I tread : 

Where, though I mourn my matchless loss alone, 
And none between my weakness judge and me, 

Yet even these gentle walls allow my moan. 
Whose doleful echoes to my plaints agree. 

But is he gone ? and live I rhyming here. 
As if some Muse would listen to my lay. 

When all distuned sit wailing for their dear. 
And bathe the banks where he was wont to play ? 

Dwell thou in endless light, discharged soul. 
Freed now from Nature's and from Fortune's trust I 

While on this fluent globe my glass shall roll. 
And run the rest of my remaining dust. 





E first deceased ; she for a little tried 
To live without him, liked it not, and 





(May 29, 1630.) 

OU that on stars do look, 

Arrest not there your sight, 
Though Nature's fairest book. 
And signed with propitious light ; 
Our blessing now is more divine 
Than planets that at noon did shine. 

iS- »» 

* •' Rel. Wotton." Also in Picke's " Festum Voluptatis,' 
1639 ; and, with a different title, in Philipot's edit, of Cam- 
den's " Remains," 1657, p. 406. And also in Fuller, 
•• Worthies of Essex," p. 340. 

« •« Rel. Wotton." 


To Thee alone be praise, 

From whom our joy descends, 
Thou cheerer of our days, 

Of causes first, and last of ends : 
To Thee this May we sing, by whom 
Our roses from the lilies bloom. 

Upon this royal flower. 

Sprung from the chastest bed. 
Thy glorious sweetness shower ; 

And first let myrtles crown his head, 
Then palms and laurels wreathed between : 
But let the cypress late be seen. 

And so succeeding men, 

When they the fulness see 
Of this our joy, shall then 

In consort join, as well as we. 
To celebrate His praise above 
That spreads our land with fruits of love. 





jOUSE up thyself, my gentle Muse, 
Though now our green conceits bo 
And yet once more do not refuse 

» "Rel. Wotton." Transcribed as Wotton's in MS. Tann, 


To take thy Phrygian harp, and play 
In honour of this cheerful day. 

Make first a song of joy and love. 
Which chastely flame in royal eyes ; 

Then tune it to the spheres above 
When the benignest stars do rise, 
And sweet conjunctions grace the skies. 

To this let all good hearts resound, 

While diadems invest his head ; 
Long may he live, whose life doth bound 

More than his laws, and better lead 

By high example than by dread I 

Long may he round about him see 

His roses and his lilies blown ; 
Long may his only dear and he 

Joy in ideas of their own, 

And kingdom's hopes so timely sown ; 

Long may they both contend to prove, 
That best of crowns is such a love ! 

H. W. 

465, fol. 61. verso f and MS. Rawl. Poet. 147, p. 96. Erro- 
neously inserted among Ben Jonson's '* Works," vol. ix. 
p. 52, edit. Gifford. 





(CVrc. 1638.) 


ND now all nature seemed in love ; 
The lusty sap began to move ; 
New juice did stir the embracing vines, 
And birds had drawn their valentines ; 

The jealous trout, that low did lie, 

Bbse at a well-dissembled fly : 

There stood my friend, with patient skill, 

Attending of his trembling quill. 

Already were the eaves possessed 

With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest : 

The groves already did rejoice 

In Philomel's triumphing voice. 

The showers were short, the weather mild, 

The morning fresh, the evening smiled. 

Joan takes her neat-rubbed pail, and now 

She trips to milk the sand-red cow ; 

Where f for some sturdy football swain, 

Joan strokes a sillabub or twain. 

The fields and gardens were beset 

With tulip, crocus, violet ; 

* " Rel. Wotton." Also as Wotton's in MS. Tann. 465, 
fol. 61, verso; ia MS. Rawl. Poet. 147, p. 47; and in Wal- 
ton's " Complete Angler," p. 78, edit. Nicolas, where it is 
said to have been written when Wotton was " beyond se- 
venty years of age." lie was born in 1568. 


And now, though late, the modest rose 
Did more than half a bliish disclose. 
Thus all look'd gay, all full of cheer, 
To welcome the new liveried year. 

H. W. 



|Y soul, exalt the Lord with hymns of 
praise : 
Lord, my God, how boundless is 
Thy might ! 

Whose Throne of State is clothed with glorious rays, 
And round about hast robed Thyself with light ; 
"WTio like a curtain hast the heavens displayed, 
And in the watery roofs Thy chambers laid : 

Whose chariots are the thickened clouds above ; 

Who walk'st upon the winged winds below ; 
At whose command the airy spirits move, 

And fiery meteors their obedience show ; 
Who on his base the earth did*st firmly found, 
And mad'st the deep to circumvest it round. 

The waves that rise would drown the highest liill, 
But at Thy check they fl}^ and when they hear 

Thy thundering voice, they post to do Thy Will, 
And bound their furies in their proper sphere, 

» "Rel. Wotton." 


Where surging floods and valing ebbs can tell. 
That none beyond Thj marks must sink or swell. 

Who hath disposed, but Thou, the winding way, 
Where springs down from the steepy crags do 

At which both fostered beasts their thirsts allay, 
And the wild asses come to quench their heat ; 

Where birds resort, and, in their kind. Thy praise 

Among the branches chant in warbling lays ? 

The mounts are watered from Thy dwelling-place ; 

The bams and meads are filled for man and beast ; 
Wine glads the heart, and oil adorns the face. 

And bread, the staff whereon our strength doth 
Nor shrubs alone feel Thy sufficing hand, 
But even the cedars that so proudly stand. 

So have the fowls their sundry seats to breed ; 

The ranging stork in stately beeches dwells ; 
The climbing goats on hills securely feed ; 

The mining conies shroud in rocky cells : 
Nor can the heavenly lights their course forget. 
The moon her turns, or sun his times to set. 

Thou mak'st the night to overveil the day : 

Then savage beasts creep from the silent wood ; 

Then lions' whelps lie roaring for their prey. 
And at Thy powerful hand demand their food ; 

Who when at morn they all recouch again, 

Then toiling man till eve pursues his pain. 

Lord ! when on Thv various works we look, 
How richly furnished is the earth we tread I 


Where, in the fair contents of Nature's book. 

We may the wonders of Thy wisdom read : — 
Nor earth alone, but lo ! the sea so wide, 
Where great and small, a world of creatures glide : 

There go the ships that furrow out their way ; 

Yea, there of whales enormous sights we see, 
Which yet have scope among the rest to play. 

And all do wait for their support on Thee ; 
Who hast assigned each thing his proper food, 
And in due season dost dispense Thy good. 

They gather when Thy gifts Thou dost divide ; 

Their stores abound, if Thou Thy hand enlarge, 
Conflised they are when Thou Thy beams dost hide ; 

In dust resolved if Thou their breath discharge ; 
Again, when Thou of life renew'st the seeds. 
The withered fields revest their cheerful weeds. 

Be ever gloried here Thy sovereign name, 

That Thou may'st smile on all which Thou hast 

Whose frown alone can shake this earthly frame. 
And at whose touch the hills in smoke shall vado ! 

For me, may, while I breathe, both harp and voico 

In sweet indictment of Thy hymns rejoice ! 

Let sinners fail, let all profaneness cease : — 

His praise, my soul. His praise shall be thy peace. 





(1638 or 1639.) 

H Thou great power ! in whom I move, 
For whom I live, to whom I die, 
Behold me through Thy beams of love, 
Whilst on this couch of tears I lie ; 
And cleanse my sordid soul within 
By Thy Christ's blood, the bath of sin ! 

No hallowed oils, no grains I need, 
No rags of saints, no purging fire ; 

One rosy drop from David's seed 
Was worlds of seas to quench Thine ire. 

precious ransom ! which once paid. 

That consummatum est was said : 

And said by Him that said no more. 
But sealed it with His sacred breath : 

Thou, then, that hast dispunged my score. 
And dying wast the death of Death, 

Be to me now, on Thee I call, 

My life, my strength, my joy, my all! 


* *'Rel. Wotton." among the letters. There are copies 
in MS. Tann. 465, p. 137; MS. Bawl. Poet. 147, p. 101 ; 
MS. Ashm. 38, No. 172, &c.; and in Clark's **AureaLe- 
genda," 1682, p. 141. 






Relieve it, sir, you happily have hit 
Upon a curious fancy, of such wit. 
That far transcends the vulgar; for 
each line 

Methinks breathes Barclay, or a Boccaline. 
I know you might (none better) make the vine. 
The olive, ivy, mulberry, and pine, 
With others, their own dialects expose. 
But you have taught them all rich English prose. 
I end and envy ; but must justly say. 
Who makes trees speak so well, deserves the bay, 

Heney Wotton. 




(Author uncertain.) 

[UIVERING fears, heart-tearing cares, 
Anxious sighs, untimely tears, 
Fly, fly to courts ! 
Fly to fond worldlings' sports, 

* Prefixed to Howell's "Dodona*s Grove," 1640. ^o 
doubt the book was submitted in MS. to Wotton, who died 
in 1639. 

' ** Rel. Wotton." signed as below. Also in Walton's 


Where strained sardonic smiles are glozing still. 
And grief is forced to laugh against her ¥rill ; 

Where mirth's but mummery. 

And sorrows only real be ! 

Fly from our country pastimes ! fly. 
Sad troop of human misery ! 

Come, serene looks, 

Clear as the crystal brooks. 
Or the pure azured heaven, that smiles to see 
The rich attendance of our poverty ! 

Peace, and a secure mind. 

Which all men seek, we only find. 

Abused mortals ! did you know 

Where joy, heart's ease, and comforts grow. 

You'd scorn proud towers. 

And seek them in these bowers. 
Where winds sometimes our woods perhaps may 

But blustering care could never tempest make. 

Nor murmurs e'er come nigh us. 

Saving of fountains that glide by us. 

Here's no fantastic mask, nor dance 
But of our kids, that frisk and prance : 

Nor wars are seen, 

Unless upon the green 

"Complete Anprler," p. 309, edit. Nicolas, as "doubtless 
made either by (Sir H. Wotton) or by a lover of angling." An 
anonymous copy in " Tixall Poetry," p. 297, as " Rusticatio 
Keligiosi in Yacantiis.*' Claimed without authority for Sir 
W. Raleigh by Brydges and the Oxford editors. 


Two harmless lambs are butting one the other ; 
Whioh done, both bleating run^ each to his mother: 

And wounds are never founds 

Save what the ploughshare gives the ground. 

Here are no false entrapping baits^ 
To hasten too-too hasty Fates ; 

Unless it be 

The fond credulity 
Of silly fish, which, worldling-like, still look 
Upon the bait, but never on the hook : 

Nor envy, unless among 

The birds, for prize of their sweet song. 

Go ! let the diving negro seek 

For gems hid in some forlorn creek; 

We aU pearls scorn, 

Save what the dewy morn 
Congeals upon each little spire of grass. 
Which careless shepherds beat down as they pass ; 

And gold ne'er here appears, 

Save what the yellow Ceres bears. 

Blest, silent groves ! may ye be 
For ever mirth's best nursery ! 
May pure contents 
For ever pitch their tents 
Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these 

And peace still slumber by these purling fountains ! 
Which we may every year 
Find when we come a-fishing here. 





(Author uncertain.) 

lAREWELL, ye gilded follies, pleasing 

troubles ! 
Farewell, ye honoured rags, ye glorious 

bubbles ! 

Fame's but a hollow echo ; gold pure clay ; 
Honour the darling but of one short day ; 
Beauty, the eyes' idol, but a damasked skin ; 
State but a golden prison to live in, 
And torture free-bom minds ; embroidered trains 
Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins ; 
And blood allied to greatness is alone 
Inherited, not purchased, nor our own : 
Fame, honour, beauty, state, train, blood, and birth. 
Are but the fading blossoms of the earth. 

* Walton's "Complete Angler," p. 311, edit. Nicolas; in 
the first two editions as " some say written by Dr. D.," but 
ifterwards as ** some say written by Sir Harry VVotton." 
Ill MS. Asbm. 38 it is entitled " Doctor Donn's Valediction 
to the world." In " Wit*s Interpreter," 1671, p. 269, it is 
ascribed to Sir Kenelm Digby. Sir H. Nicolas, without 
any authority that I know of, says that " these verses are 
also said to have been written by Sir W. Raleigh, when a 
prisoner in the Tower, shortly before his execution." Arch- 
bishop Sancroft gives them anonymously with the title, 
'^\n hermit in an arbour, with a prayer-book in his hand, 
his foot spurning a globe, thus spcaketh;"' MS. Tann. 465, 
fol. 59. 


I would ht great, but that the sun doth still 
Level his rays against the rising hill ; 
I would be high, but see the proudest oak 
Most subject to the rending thunder-stroke ; 
I would be rich, but see men too unkind 
Dig in the bowels of the richest mind ; 
I would be wise, but that I often see 
The fox suspected, whilst the ass goes free ; 
I would be fair, but see the fair and proud. 
Like the bright sun, oft setting in a cloud ; 
I would be poor, but know the humble grass 
Still trampled on by each unworthy ass : 
Rich, hated ; wise, suspected ; scorned, if poor ; 
Great, feared ; fair, tempted ; high, still envied 

I have wished all, but now I wish for neither. 
Great, high, rich, wise, nor fair ; poor I'll be rather. 

Would the world now adopt me for her heir ; 
Would Beauty's queen entitle me the fair ; 
Fame speak me Fortune's minion ; could I vie 
Angels with India ; with a speaking eye 
Command bare heads, bowed knees, strike Justice 

As well as blind and lame ; or give a tongue 
To stones by epitaphs ; be called great master 
In the loose rhymes of every poetaster ; 
Could I be more than any man that lives, 
Great, fair, rich, wise, all in superlatives ; 
Yet I more freely would these gifts resign, 
Than ever Fortune would have made them mine ; 
And hold one minute of this holy leisure 
Beyond the riches of this empty pleasure. 


Welcome^ pure thoughts ! welcome^ ye silent groves ! 
These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly 

Now the winged people of the sky shall sing 
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring ; 
A Prayer-book now shall be my looking-glass, 
In which I will adore sweet Virtue's face. 
Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace-cares. 
No broken vows dwell here, nor pale-faced fears ; 
Then here I'll sit and sigh my hot love's folly, 
And learn to affect an holy melancholy ; 
And if contentment be a stranger then, 
I'll ne'er look for it, but in heaven, again. 




(Author unknown.) 


ILST my soul's eye beheld no light. 
But what streamed from Thy gracious 

To me the world's greatest King 
Seemed but some little vulgar thing. 

• " Rel. Wotton.'* Claimed without authority for Sir W. 
Raleigh by Bridges. 


God. Whilst thou proved'st pure^ and that in thee 
I could glass all my Deity ; 
How glad did I from heaven depart^ 
To find a lodging in thy heart ! 

SotU, Now fame and greatness bear the sway ; 
'Tis they that hold my prison's key: 
For whom my soul would die, might she 
Leave them her immortality. 

Ood. I and some few pure souls conspire, 
And bum both in a mutual lire, 
For whom lid die once more, ere they 
Should miss of heaven's eternal day. 

Send. But, Lord, what if I turn again. 
And, with an adamantine chain. 
Lock me to Thee ? What if I chase 
The world away to give Thee place ? 

God'. Then, though these souls, in whom I joy. 
Are seraphims, — thou but a toy, 
A foolish toy, — yet once more I 
Would with thee live, and for thee die. 




;H0 would have thought there could have 
Such joy in tears wept for our sin ? 
Mine eyes have seen, my heart hath 

» "Rel. Wotton." as "Doctor B. of Tears." The full 
name was obtained from a MS. belonging to Mr. J. P. 


The most and best of earthly joys ; 

The sweets of love, and being loved ; 
Masks, feasts and plays, and such like toys : 

Yet this one tear, which now doth fall. 

In true delight exceeds them all. 

Indeed mine eyes at first let in 

Those guests that did these woes begin ; 

Therefore mine eyes in tears and grief 
Are justly drowned ; but that those tears 

Should comfort bring, is past belief. 
God ! in this Thy grace appears. 

Thou that mak'st light from darkness spring, 

Mak'st joys to weep, and sorrows sing. 

where am I ? what may I think ? 
Help, help ! alas, my heart doth sink ! 

Thus lost in seas of woe, 
Thus laden with my sin. 
Waves of despair dash in. 

And threat my overthrow. 
What heart oppressed with such a weight 
Can choose but break, and perish quite ? 

Yet, as at sea in storms, men use. 
The ship to save, their goods to lose j 

So in this fearful storm 
This danger to prevent. 
Before all hope be spent, 

I'll choose the lesser harm : 
My tears to seas I will convert. 
And drown my eyes to save my heart. 

Collier. Erroneously included in the ** Poems of Pembroke 
and Rudyard," 1660, p. 46, with the title, **Benj. Rudier 
of Tears." 



O God, my God ! what shall I give 
To Thee in thanks ? I am and live 

In Thee, and Thou didst safe preserve 
My health, my fame, my goods, my rent ; 

Thou mak'st me eat while others starve. 
And sing, whilst others do lament. 

Such unto me Thy blessings are. 

As if I were Thy only care. 

But, my God ! Thou art more kind. 
When I look inward on my mind : 

Thou fill'st my heart with humble joy. 
With patience, meekness, fervent love. 

Which doth all other loves destroy, 
With faith, which nothing can remove. 

And hope assured of heaven's bliss : — 

This is my state, Thy grace is this. 






I Y prime of youth is but a frost of cares; 
My feast of joy is but a dish of 
My crop of corn is but a field of tares ; 
And all my good is but vain hope of gain; 

* " Rel. Wotton."and in numerous MS. copies; e,g. Harl. 
MS. 6910, fol. 141, verso; MS. Ashm. 781, p. 138; MS. 
Malone, 19, p. 44, &c. 


The day is fled, and yet I saw no sun ; 
And now I live, and now my life is done ! 

The spring is past, and yet it hath not sprung ; 

The fruit is dead, and yet the leaves are green; 
My youth is gone, and yet I am but young ; 

I saw the world, and yet I was not seen ; 
My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun ; 
And now I live, and now my life is done ! 

I sought my death, and found it in my womb ; 

I looked for life, and saw it was a shade ; 
I trod the earth, and know it was my tomb ; 

And now I die, and now I am but made ; 
The glass is full, and now my glass is run ; 
And now I live, and now my life is done ! 



HY flower of youth is with a north wind 
blasted ; 
Thy feast of joy is an idea found ; 
Thy corn is shed, thy untimely harvest 
wasted ; 
Thy good in ill, thy hope in hurt [is drowned] ; 
Dark was thy day, and shadow was thy sun, 
And, by such lights, thy life untimely spun. 

^ From a MS. belonging to Mr. J. P. Collier. 


Thy tale was nought, thy oratory told ; 

Thy (hut is rotten, and thy leaves are gone ; 
Thyself wert young in years, in time grown old ; 

The world accounts thee not worth thinking on ; 
Thy thread [of lifejs not cut nor spun, but broken; 
So let thy heart, though yet it be but open. 

Thou sought'st thy death, and found'st it in desert ; 

Thou look'dst for life, yet lewdly felt it fade ; 
Thou trodd'st on earth, and now in earth thou art; 

And men may wish that thou hadst ne'er been 
[made] ; 
Thy glory and thy glass are timeless run, 
Which, unhappy ! by thyself was done. 



(Author unknown.) 

fISE, my soul! with thy desires to 
And with divinest contemplation use 
Thy time, where time's eternity is given. 
And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse; 
But down in [midnight] darkness let them lie ; 
So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die ! 

And thou, my soul, inspired with holy flame. 
View and review, with most regardful eye, 

» " Rel. Wotton." Claimed without authority for Raleigh 
by Brydges and the Oxford editors. 


That holy cross, whence thy salvation came, 
On which thy Saviour and thy sin did die ! 
For in that sacred object is much pleasure. 
And in that Saviour is my life, my treasure. 

To thee, Jesu ! I direct my eyes ; 

To Thee my hands, to Thee my humble knees ; 
To Thee my heart shall offer sacrifice ; 

To Thee my thoughts, who my thoughts only sees: 
To Thee myself, — myself and all I give ; 
To Thee I die ; to Thee I only live ! 




(By Lord Bacon.) 

HE world's a bubble, and the life of man 

Less than a span ; 
In his conception wretched, from the 
So to the tomb ; 

* " Rel. Wotton.'* Signed as below in all editions after 
the first, where it is marked ** Ignoto." Ascribed to Lord 
Bacon in Farnaby's ** Florilegium," 1629, p. 10. Compare 
Spedding's edit, of Bacon's "Works," vol. vii. p. 269. In 
MS. Rawl. Poet. 117, fol. 161, it was first entitled "The 
Bubble, by R. W. ;" (? H. W.) altered to " by y« Lord 
Bacon.'' In MS. Ashm. 38, p. 2, the first title was, " On 
Man's Mortality, by Doctor Donn ;*' altered to " S' Fran. 
Bacon." In a MS. belonging to the late Mr. Pickering the 
title is, " Upon the Misery of Man ;" the first signature is 
" Henry Harrington," altered to ** L<» Verulam Viscount St. 


Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years 

With cares and fears. 
Who then to frail mortality shall trust 
But limns on water, or but writes in dust. 

Yet, whilst with sorrow here we live oppressed, 

\Miat life is best? 
Courts are but only superficial schools. 

To dandle fools ; 
The rural part is turned into a den 

Of savage men ; 
And Where's a city from foul vice so free 
But may be termed the worst of all the three ? 

Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, 

Or pains his head : 
Those that live single take it for a curse, 

Or do things worse : 
These would have children ; those that have 
them moan, 

Or wish them gone. 
What is it, then, to have or have no wife. 
But single thraldom or a double strife ? 

Our own afTections still at home to please 

Is a disease ; 
To cross the seas to any foreign soil. 

Peril and toil ; 
Wars with their noise aflPright us ; when they cease. 

We're worse in peace: 
What then remains, but that we still should cry 
For being bom, and, being bom, to die ? 

Fra.. Lord Bacon. 




I HE man of life upright, whose g:uiltless 
heart is free 
From all dishonest deeds, and thoughts 
of vanity ; 
That man whose silent days in harmless joys are 

Whom hopes cannot delude, nor fortune discontent; 
That man needs neither tower nor armour for 

Nor secret vaults to fly from thunder's violence. 
He only can behold with unaffrighted eyes 
The horrors of the deep and terrors of the skies. 
Thus, scorning all the care that fate or fortune 

He makes the heaven his book, his wisdom heavenly 

Good thoughts his only friends, his wealth a well- 
spent age ; 
The earth his sober inn, — a quiet pilgrimage. 

Fba. Bacok. 

» Printed from a Brit Mus. MS. by Park, " Walpole's 
Royal and Noble Authors," vol. ii. p. 217, and Spedding, 
" Bacon's Works," vol. vii. p. 269. I have corrected one 
or two words from an anonymous copy in Chetham MS. 
8012, p. 79» which, however, omits lines 7 and 8. 




(Author unknown.) 

i AN'S life's a tragedy : his mother's womb, 
From which he enters, is the tiring room ; 
This spacious earth the theatre; and the 
That country which he lives in : passions, rage, 
Folly, and vice are actors ; the first cry. 
The prologue to the ensuing tragedy ; 
The former act consisteth of dumb shows ; 
The second, he to more perfection grows ; 
I' the third he is a man, and doth begin 
To nurture vice, and act the deeds of sin ; 
I' the fourth, declines ; V the fifth, diseases clog 
And trouble him ; then death's his epilogue. 




(Author unknown.) 

;F breath were made for every man to 
The poor man could not live, — rich 
would not die. 

* " Rel. Wotton." Claimed without authority for Raleigh 
by Brydges and the Oxford editors. 

S (( 

Rel. Wotton." 






WEET Benjamin, since thou art young. 
And hast not yet the use of tongue, 
Make it thy slave, while thou art free ; 
Imprison it, lest it do thee. 

Ad FUiolum suum Benjamin,^ 

DuM puer es, vansB nescisque incommoda vocis, 
Vincula da linguae, vel tibi lingua dabit. 




HE worst is told ; the best is hid : 
Kings know not all ; I would they did: 
What though my husband once have 
erred ? 
Men more to blame have been preferred. 

• "Rel. Wotton." edit. 1672. Often found in MSS. with 
the Latin version here appended. 

' MS. Malone 19, p. 141 ; Mr. Pickering's MS. fol. 151, 

' MS. Malone 16, p. 20; in other MSS. in a longer form. 


Who hath not erred^ he doth not live ; 
He erred but once ; once^ king^ forgive ! 


F life be time that here is lent^ 

And time on earth be cast away, 
Whoso his time hath here misspent. 
Hath hastened his own dying day 
So it doth prove a killing crime 
To massacre our living time. 

• % * - •"' v^ 

If doing nought be like to death, '•^^ 
Of him that doth, chameleon-wise. 

Take only pains to draw his breath, 
The passers-by may.pasquilize, 
Not; here he li^es ; b^t, here he dfts. 


Hebe lies the man was bom and cried, 
Told threescore ye^rs,, fell sick, and diqiffT" 

> Chetham MS. 8012, p.^. ^^ I 

* Chetham MS. 8012, p. 158; also lii* PlMipot*s edit, of 
Camden's " Remains," 1667, p. 399. 




7B0M 1540 TO 1650. 






(B; SirTbomiaWfatt or Visconnt Rochford. Before 1S4Z.) 

& Y lute, awake ! perform the last 
' Labour that thou and I shall 
And end that I have now begun ; 
' And when this soDg is song and 
Hy lute, be BtiU ! for I have done. 

As to be heard where ear is none ; 
.is lead to grave in marble stone ; 

My song may pierce her heart as soon : 
Should we then sigh, or sing, or moan? 

No, no, my luto, for I have done. 

> In Tottel'B " Songs md SonneU," ISST, and in Nott's 
" Wyatt," p. 20, u Sir Tbooiu Wj'all'a. Ascribed to Boch 
ford in " NugsB Aotiqas," vol. ii. p. 400, edit. Park. 


11)0 rocks do not 8o cruolly 
Kcpulse tho waves continually 

As sho my suit and affection : 
So that I am past remedy: 

Whereby my lute and I have done. 

Proud of the spoil that thou hast got 
Of simple hearts, thorough Love's shot, 

By whom, unkind, thou hast them won ; 
Think not he hath his bow forgot. 

Although my lute and I have done. 

Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain : 
Thou mak'st but game on earnest pain : 

Think not alone under the sun 
Unquit to cause thy lovers plain^ 

Although my lute and I have done. 

May chance thee lie, withered and old. 
In winter nights that are so cold, 

Plaining in vain unto the moon. 
Thy ^^ishes then dare not be told ; 

Care then who list, for I have done. 

And then may chance thee to repent 
The time that thou hast lost and spent, 

To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon : 
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent. 

And wish and want as I have done. 

Now cease, my lute ! This is the last 
Labour that thou and I shall waste. 

And ended is that we begun : 
Now is this song both sung and past : 

My lute, be still ! for I have done. 





(Uncertain, but claimed for John Hey wood.) 
(Before 1557.) 

IVE place, you ladies, and begone ! 
Boast not yourselves at all ! 
For here at hand approacheth one 
Whose face will stain you all. 

The virtue of her lively looks 

Excels the precious stone ; 
I wish to have none other books 

To read or look upon. 

In each of her two crystal eyes 

Smileth a naked boy ; 
It would you all in heart suffice 

To see that lamp of joy. 

I think Nature hath lost the mould 
Where she her shape did take ; 

Or else I doubt if Nature could 
So fair a creature make. 

> In TotteVs ** Songs and Sonnets," 1557, as << A Praise 
of his Lady/' among ** Uncertain Authors*'' Ascribed to 
John Heywood by W. Forrest (or the transcriber of his 
poems), in a copy containing many alterations, and adapting 
the poem to Queen Mary, in Harl. MS. 1703, foL 108 ; title 
as above. 


She may be well compared 

Unto the FhoBnix kind, 
\Mi080 like was never seen nor heard. 

That any man can find. 

In life she is Diana chaste, 

In truth Penelope ; 
In work and eke in deed steadfast. 

What wiU you more we say ? 

If all the world were sought so far. 
Who could find such a wight? 

Her beauty twinkleth like a star 
Within the frosty night. 

Her roseal colour comes and goes 
With such a comely grace, 

More ruddier, too, than doth the rose, 
Within her lively face. 

At Bacchus' feast none shall her meet. 

No at no wanton play. 
Nor gazing in an open street. 

Nor gadding as a stray. 

The modest mirth that she doth use 
Is mixed with shamefastness ; 

All vice she doth wholly refuse, 
And hateth idleness. 

Lord ! it is a world to see 

How virtue can repair, 
And deck her in such honesty, 

Whom nature made so fair. 

Truly she doth so far exceed 
Our women nowadays. 


As doth the gillyflower a weed ; 
And more a thousand ways. • 

How might I do to get a graff 

Of this unspotted tree ? 
For all the rest are plain but chaff, 

Which seem good corn to be. 

This gift alone I shall her give : 

When death doth what he can, 
Her honest fame shall ever live 

Within the mouth of man. 



(By Thomas Lord Vaux. Died in 1557.) 

;F friendless faith, if guiltless thought 
may shield ; 
If simple truth that never meant to 
swerve ; 

If dear desire accepted fruit do yield ; 
If greedy lust in loyal life do serve ; 
Then may my plaint bewail my heavy harm, 
That, seeking calm, have stumbled on the storm. 

My wonted cheer, — eclipsed by the cloud 
Of deep disdain, through error of report, 

If weary woe enwrapped in the shroud, — 
Lies slain by tongue of the unfriendly sort ; 

' •* Paradise of Dainty Devices." 1576. &c. 



Yet heaven and earth, and all that nature wrought, 
I call to* vow of my unspotted thought. 

No shade I seek in part to shield my taint, 
But simple truth ; I hunt no other suit : 

On that I ga[g]e the issue of my plaint ; 
If that I quail, let justice me confute : 

If that my place among the guiltless sort 

Repay by doom my name and good report. 

Go, heavy verse ; pursue desired grace ; 

Where pity shrined in cell of secret breast 
Awaits my haste the rightful lot to place, 

And loathes to see the guiltless man oppressed : 
Whose virtues great have crowned her more with 

Than kingly state, though largely shine the same. 

L. Yaux, 



(By Thomas Lord Vaux or W. Hunnis.) 

HE higher that the cedar tree unto the 
heavens do[th] grow. 
The more in danger is the top when 
sturdy winds gan blow. 
Who judges them in princely throne to be devoid 
of hate, 

* " Paradise of Dainty Devices;" in edit. 1578 signed W. 
H; in edits. 1580 and 1596 signed W. Hunnis; in other 
edits. L. V. (or Lord Vaux). 


Doth not yet know what heaps of ill lie hid in such 

Such dangers great, such gripes of mind, such toil 

do they sustain, 
That oftentimes of God they wish to be unkinged 


For as the huge and mighty rocks withstand the 
raging seas, 

So kingdoms in subjection be whenas Dame For- 
tune please. 

Of brittle joy, of smiling cheer, of honey mixed 
with gall. 

Allotted is to every prince in freedom to be thrall : 

What watches long, what sleeps unsure, what griefs 
and cares of mind. 

What bitter broils, what endless toils, to kingdoms 
be assigned ! 

The subject then may well compare with prince 

for pleasant days. 
Whose silent night brings quiet rest, whose steps 

no storm bewrays. 
How much be we then bound to God, who such 

provision makes 
To lay our cares upon the prince ! Thus doth He 

for our sakes. 
To Him therefore let us lift up our hearts and 

pray amain, 
That every prince that He hath placed may long 

in quiet reign. 




(By Thomas Lord Yanz.) 

HEN all is done and said, 

In the end thus shall you find. 
He most of all doth bathe in bliss 
That hath a quiet mind. 

And, clear from worldly cares, 
To deem can be content 
The sweetest time in all his life 
In thinking to be spent. 

The body subject is 
To fickle Fortune's power, 
And to a million of mishaps 
Is casual every hour ; 

And death in time doth change 
It to a clod of clay, 
Whenas the mind, which is divine, 
Kuns never to decay. 

Companion none is like 
Unto the mind alone ; 
For many have been harmed by speech ; 
Through thinking few or none : 

' ''Paradise of Dainty Devices," 1576, &c. 


Fear oftentimes restraineth words. 
But makes not thoughts to cease. 
And he speaks best that hath the skill 
When for to hold his peace. 

Our wealth leaves us at death ; ' 
Our kinsmen at the grave ; 
But virtues of the mind unto 

The heavens with us we have. 

Wherefore, for virtue's sake, 
I can be well content 
The sweetest time of all my life 
To deem in thinking spent. 

L. Vaux, 


(By Thomas Lord Vaux or J. Haryngton.) 

[EN I look back, and in myself behold 
The wandering ways that youth could 
not descry. 
And mark the fearful course that youth 
did hold, 
And meet in mind each step youth strayed awry ; 
My knees I bow, and from my heart I call, — 
Lord, forget these faults and follies all ! 

* '' Paradise of Dainty Deyices,*' signed L. Vaux. Four 
stanzas, much varied, claimed for J. Haryngton in " Nuga 
Antiqun," toL ii. p. 333, edit Park. 


For now I see how void youth is of skill ; 

I see also his prime time and his end ; 
I do confess my faults and all my ill, 

And sorrow sore for that I did offend ; 
And with a mind repentant of all crimes, 
Pardon I ask for youth ten thousand times. 

The humble heart hath daunted the proud mind ; 

Eke wisdom hath given ignorance a fall ; 
And wit hath taught that folly could not find. 

And age hath youth her subject and her thrall. 
Therefore I pray, Lord of life and truth, 
Pardon the faults committed in my youth ! 

Thou that didst grant the wise king his request ; 

Thou that in whale thy prophet didst preserve ; 
Thou that forgavest the wounding of thy breast ; 

Thou that didst save the thief in state to starve ; 
Thou only God, the Giver of all Grace, 
Wipe out of mind the path of youth's vain race ! 

Thou that by power to life didst raise the dead ; 

Thou that of grace restor'dst the blind to sight ; 
Thou that for love Thy life and love outbled ; 

Thou that of favour madest the lame go right ; 
Thou that canst heal and help in all assays. 
Forgive the guilt that grew in youth s vain ways ! 

And now since I, with faith and doubtless mind. 
Do fly to Thee by prayer to appease Thy ire, 

And since that Thee I only seek to find, 
And hope by faith to attain my just desire ; 

Lord, mind no more youth's error and unskill. 

And able age to do Thy Holy Will ! 




(By J. Haryngton. Before 1564?) 

IHENCE comes my love? heart, disclose ! 
'Twas from cheeks that shame the 

From lips that spoil the ruby's praise ; 
From eyes that mock the diamond's blaze. 
Whence comes my woe ? As freely own: 
Ah me ! 'twas from a heart of stone. 

The blushing cheek speaks modest mind ; 
The lips, befitting words most kind ; 
The eye does tempt to love's desire, 
And seems to say, 'tis Cupid's fire : 
Yet all so fair but speak my moan, 
Sith nought doth say the heart of stone. 

Why thus, my love, so kind bespeak 
Sweet lip, sweet eye, sweet blushing cheek, 
Yet not a heart to save my pain ? 
Venus ! take thy gifts again ! 
Make not so fair to cause our moan ; 
Or make a heart that's like your own ! 

I u 

Nugae Antiquse," vol. ii. p. 824, edit. Park. 




iCirc. 1669.) 

HE doubt of future foes 

Exiles my present joy. 
And wit me warns to shun such snares 
As threaten mine annoy. 

For falsehood now doth flow, 
And subject faith doth ebb, 
Which would not be if reason ruled, 
Or wisdom weaved the web. 

But clouds of toys untried 
Do cloak aspiring minds. 
Which turn to rain of late repent. 
By course of changed winds. 

The top of hope supposed 
The root of ruth will be. 
And fruitless all their graffed guiles, 
As shortly ye shall see. 

Then dazzled eyes with pride. 
Which great ambition blinds. 
Shall be unsealed by worthy wights, 
Whose foresight falsehood finds. 

* Printed by Puttenham, "Art of Poesy," 1589, p. 208, 
as a " ditty of her Majesty's own making, passing sweet and 
harmonica!.'' In MS. Rawl. Poet. 108, fol. 44, verso, it is 
entitled '* Verses made by the Queen's Majesty." Another 
text was printed by Brydges from a Harl. MS. ; '* Topo- 
grapher," vol. ii. p. 176. 


The daughter of debate, 
That eke discord doth sow, 
Shall reap no gain where former rule 
Hath taught still peace to grow. 

No foreign banished wight 
Shall anchor in this port ; 
Our realm it brooks no stranger's force ; 
Let them elsewhere resort. 

Our rusty sword with rest 
Shall first his edge employ, 
To poll their tops that seek such change, 
And gape for future joy. 



(Born 1554; died 1586.) 

IITH how sad steps, moon, thou 
climb'st the skies ! 
How silently, and with how wan a 

What ! may it be that even in heavenly place 
That busy archer his sharp arrows tries ? 

* Gray's " Miscellaneous Works of Sidnej'," p. 87, from 
*' Astrophel and Stella." The first two lines adapted by 
Wordsworth, '' Miscellaneous Sonnets/' No. 3. 


Sure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes 

Can judge of love, thou feeVst a lover's case. 

I read it in thy looks ; thy languished grace 
To me, that feel the like, thy state descries. 
Then, even of fellowship, moon ! tell me 

Is constant love deemed there but want of wit? 
Are beauties there as proud as here they be ? 

Do they above love to be loved, and yet 
Those lovers scorn, whom that love doth possess ? 
Do they call virtue there ungratefulness ? 

II. 1 

Come, sleep ; sleep ! the certain knot of peace. 

The baiting- place of wit, the balm of woe. 
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release. 

The indifferent judge between the high and low ; 
With shield of proof, shield me from out the prease 

Of those fierce darts despair at me doth throw. 
make in me those civil wars to cease ; 

I will good tribute pay if thou do so. 
Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed, 

A chamber deaf to noise and blind to light, 
A rosy garland and a weary head : 

And if these things, as being thine by right, 
Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me 
Livelier than elsewhere Stella's image see. 


Leave me, love ! which reachest but to dust, 
And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things ! 

• Grav*8 " Miscellaneous Works of Sidney," p. 92^ 
Sidney's "Awadia," 5. 539, edit. 1674;. 


Grow rich in that which never taketh rust : 

Whatever fades, but fading pleasure brings. 
Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might 

To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be ; 
Which breaks the clouds and opens forth the light ; 

That doth both shine, and give us sight to see. 
take fast hold ! Let that light be thy guide 

In this small course which birth draws out to 
death ; 
And think how evil becometh him to slide 

Who seeketh Heaven, and comes of heavenly 
Then farewell, world ! thy uttermost I see : 
Eternal Love, maintain thy life in me ! 

Splendidis hngum valedico nugis. 


(From ibe translation of the Psalms by Sir Philip Sidney 
and his sister Mary, Countess of Pembroke.) 

ROUBLOUS seas my soul surround : 
Save, God ! my sinking soul, — 
H^ Sinking where it feels no ground, 
S^n In this gulf, this whirling hole : 
Waiting aid, with earnest eying. 
Calling God with bootless cryinj 


' From the edition of 1823, p. 120. This Psalm belongs 
to the part which is generally ascribed to the Countess of 


Dim and dry in me are found 
Eye to see and throat to sound. 

Wrongly set to work my woe, 

Haters have I more than hairs : 
ForcQ in my afflicting foe 

Bettering still, in me impairs. 
Thus to pay and leese constrained 
What I never ought or gained, 
Yet say I, Thou God dost know 
How my faults and follies go. 

Mighty Lord ! let not my case 

Blank the rest that hope in Thee ! 
Let not Jacob's God deface 

All His friends in blush of me ! 
Thine it is. Thine only quarrel 
Dights me thus in shame's apparel : 
Mote nor spot nor least disgrace. 
But for Thee, could taint my face. 

To my kin a stranger quite. 

Quite an alien am I grown ; 
In my very brethren's sight 

Most uncared for, most unknown. 
With Thy temple's zeal out-eaten, 
With Thy slanders' scourges beaten. 
While the shot of piercing spite. 
Bent at Thee, on me doth light. 

^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ 

Unto Thee what needs be told 

My reproach, my blot, my blame ? 

Sith both these Thou didst behold. 
And canst all my haters name. 


Whiles afflicted, whiles heart-broken, 
Waiting yet some friendship's token. 
Some I looked would me uphold, — 
Looked, — ^but found all comfort cold. 

Comfort ? nay, not seen before. 
Needing food they set me gall ; 

Vinegar they filled me store. 

When for drink my thirst did call. 

then snare them in their pleasures ! 

Make them trapt even in their treasures ! 

Gladly sad, and richly poor. 

Sightless most, yet mightless more ! 

Down upon them fury rain ! 

Lighten indignation down ! 
Turn to waste and desert plain 

House and palace, field and town ! 
Let not one be left abiding 
Where such rancour had residing ! 
Whom Thou painest, more they pain ; 
Hurt by Thee, by them is slain. 




(By Edward Earl of Oxford. Born 1540? died 1604.) 

OME hither, shepherd's swain I 
Sir, what do you require ? 
I pray thee, shew to me thy name ! 
My name is Fond Desire. 

When wert thou horn. Desire ? 
In pomp and prime of May. 
By whom, sweet boy, wert thon begot ? 
By fond Ck)nceit, men say. 

Tell me, who was thy nurse ? 
Fresh youth, in sugsured joy. 
What was thy meat and daily food ? 
Sad sighs, with great annoy. 

What hadst thou then to drink ? 
Unfeigned lovers' tears. 
What cradle wert thou rocked in ? 
In hope devoid of fears. 

What lulled thee then asleep? 
Sweet speech, which likes me best. 
Tdl me, wh^e is thy dwelling-place ? 
In g^itle hearts I rest. 

^ Gmabr fitter from DteloDeys ** Garlsad of GoodwS,.* 
yw 100^ Fmct Soe. wL ; bj £II» and otben from Bntaa^m 
^Bvwar «f M«hts»^ 1597. A sttoctor copj in. PofiOen&BK^* 
•Alt 9iT^MBff\5S9, p. 172, a» by " Etb^arf. Eacl of Oe- 
IMUa WMt w o h h aad iMnnd gttttfgman.'^ Alao nnpaiv 
fbdj^ii BadL US. C»lQl fiiL 14>, sui n 3fSw SsspL 95w 


What thing doth please thee most ? 
To gaze on beauty still. 
Whom dost thou think to be thy foe ? 
Disdain of my good will. 

Doth company displease ? 
Yes, surely, many one. 
Where doth Desire delight to live ? 
He loves to live alone. 

Doth either time or age 
Bring him unto decay ? 
No, no ! Desire both lives and dies 
A thousand times a day. 

Then, fond Desire, farewell ! 
Thou art no mate for me ; 
I should be loath, methinks^ to dwell 
With euch a one as thee. 


(By Edward Earl of Oxford.) 

F women could be fair, and yet not fond, 
Or that their love were firm, not 
fickle, still, 
I would not marvel that they makit 
men bond 

* MS. Rawl. 85, fol. 16, as by the "Earl of Oxenford." 
Printed from that MS. by Dr. Bliss, Preface to Brydges' re- 
print of ^' England's Helicon," p. xxvi; and from him by 
many others, sometimes with the title ** A Renonciation." A 
different copy was printed by Byrd in 1587; see ^'Cens. 
Lit." vol. ii. p. 114, second edit. 


By service long to purchase their good will ; 
But when I see how frail those creatures are^ 
I muse that men forget themselves so far. 

To mark the choice they make, and how thejchange. 
How oft from PhoBbus they do flee to Pan, 

Unsettled still, like haggards wild, they range, — 
These gentle birds that fly from man to man ; 

Who would not scorn and shake them from the fist, 

And let them flj, fair fools, which way they list ? 

Yet, for disport, we fawn and flatter both. 

To pass the time when nothing else can please ; 

And train them to our lure with subtle oath. 
Tin, weary of their wiles, ourselves we ease : 

And then we say, when we their fancy try. 

To play with fools, oh, what a fool was I ! 



(By Edward Earl of Oxford.) 

I AIN would I sing, but Fury makes me fret. 
And Rage hath sworn to seek revenge 
of wrong ; 
My mazed mind in malice so is set. 
As Death shall daunt my deadly dolours long : 

' MS. Tann.306, p. 193, as by the "Earl of Oxenford." 
Printed from that MS. by Dr. Bliss, edit, of Wood's 
"Fasti," vol. i. p. 177. 


Patience perforce is such a pinching pain, 
As die I will, or suffer wrong again. 

I am no sot, to suffer such abuse 

As doth bereave my heart of his delight ; 

Nor will I frame myself to such as use 
With calm* consent to suffer such despite : 

No quiet sleep shall once possess mine eye. 

Till Wit have wrought his will on injury. 

My heart shall fail, and hand shall lose his force. 
But some device shall pay Despite his due ; 

And Fury shall consume my careful corse. 
Or raze the ground whereon my sorrow grew : 

Lo ! thus, in rage of ruthful mind refused, 

I rest revenged of whom I am abused. 





HE labouring man that tills the fertile 
And reaps the harvest fruit, hath not 
The gain, but pain ; and if for all his toil 

He gets the straw, the lord will have the seed. 

* Prefixed to Bedingfield's translation of Cardanu8*8 
<< Comfort/' 1576, which was *' published by commandment 
of the right honourable the Earl of Oxenford," who also has 
a prefatory letter to the translator. 




Tho manchct fine falls not unto his share ; 

On coarsest cheat his hungry stomach feeds ; 
The landlord doth possess the fmest fare ; 

He pulls the flowers, the other plucks but weeds. 

The mason poor that builds the lordly halls 
Dwells not in them ; they are for high degree ; 

His cottage is compact in paper walls, 
And not with brick or stone as others be. 

The idle drone that labours not at all 

Sucks up the sweet of honey from the bee ; 

Who worketh most, to their share least doth fall : 
With due desert reward will never be. 

The swiftest hare unto the mastiff slow 
Oft-times doth fall to him as for a prey : 

The greyhound thereby doth miss his game, we 
For which he made such speedy haste away. 

So he that takes the pain to pen the book 
Reaps not the gifts of goodly golden Muse ; 

But those gain that who on the work shall look. 
And from the sour the sweet by skill doth choose: 

For he that beats the bush the bird not gets, 

But who sits still and holdeth fast the nets. 





(By Edward Earl of Oxford.) 

'ERE I a king, I could command content; 
Were I obscure, hidden should be 
my cares ; 
Or were I dead, no cares should me 
Nor hopes, nor hates, nor loves, nor griefs, nor 
A doubtful choice, — of these three which to crave 5 
A kingdom, or a cottage, or a grave. 


lERT thou a king, yet not command 
Sith empire none thy mind could yet 
suffice ; 
Wert thou obscure, still cares would thee torment; 

But wert thou dead, all care and sorrow dies. 
An easy choice, — of these three which to crave ; 
No kingdom, nor a cottage, but a grave. 

* MS. Chetham 8012, p. 84. A copy of the first two 
epigrams, without distinction of authors, is printed from 
^*an ancient MS. Miscellany'* in Lord €>rford'8 ** Works, 
vol. i. p. 551, as Lord Oxford's, signed « Yere. 




KING ? oh^ boon for my aspiring mind ! 
A cottage makes a country swad 
rejoice ; 
And as for death, I like him in his kind. 
But God forbid that he should be my choice ! 
A kingdom or a cottage or a grave, — 
Nor last, nor next, but first and best I crave ; 
The rest I can whenas I list enjoy. 
Till then salute me thus, — Vive le Boy! 

F. M. 


HE greatest kings do least command 
content ; 
The greatest cares do still attend a 
crown ; 

A grave aU happy fortunes do[th] prevent. 
Making the noble equal with the clown : 
A quiet country life to lead I crave ; 
A cottage, then ; no kingdom nor a grave. 




(By Sir Edward Dyer. Born circ. 1540; died 1607.) 

Y mind to me a kingdom is, 

Such present joys therein I find, 
That it excels all other bliss 

That earth affords or grows by kind : 
Though much I want which most would have, 
Yet still my mind forbids to crave. 

No princely pomp, no wealthy store, 

No force to win the ^^ctory, 
No wily wit to salve a sore. 

No shape to feed a loving eye ; 
To none of these I yield as thrall : 
For why ? My mind doth serve for all. 

I see how plenty [surfeits] oft, 
And hasty climbers soon do fall ; 

I see that those which are aloft 
Mishap doth threaten most of all ; 

They get with toil, they keep with fear ; 

Such cares my mind could never bear. 

* From MS. Rawl. 85, p. 17. There is a very similar 
bat anonymous copy in Brit. Mas. Addit. MS. 15,225, p. 
85. Longer copies, also anonymous, are printed from Byrd 
in "Exc. Tudor." vol. i. pp. 100-1, and in " Cens. Lit" vol. 
ii. pp. 108-9 ; as well as by Percy, &c. There is an imita* 
tion in J. Sylvester's " Works," p. 651. 


Content to live, this is my stay ; 

I seek no more than may suffice ; 
I press to bear no haughty sway ; 

Look, what I lack my mind supph'es : 
Lo, thus I triumph like a king, 
(Content with that my mind doth bring. 

Some have too much, yet still do crave ; 

I little have, and seek no more. 
They are but poor, though much they have. 

And I am rich with little store : 
They poor, I rich ; they beg, I give ; 
They lack, I leave ; they pine, I live. 

I laugh not at another's loss ; 

I grudge not at another's pain ; 
No worldly waves my mind can toss ; 

My state at one doth still remain : 
I fear no foe, I fawn no friend ; 
I loathe not life, nor dread my end. 

Some weigh their pleasure by their lust, 
Their wisdom by their rage of will ; 

Their treasure is their only trust ; 
A cloaked craft their store of skill : 

But all the pleasure that I find 

Is to maintain a quiet mind. 

My wealth is health and perfect ease : 
My conscience clear my chief defence ; 

I neither seek by bribes to please. 
Nor by deceit to breed offence : 

Thus do I live ; thus will I die ; 

Would all did so as well as I ! 

E. DlER. 






(By Sir Edward Dyer.) 

[ROMETHEUS when first from heaven 
He brought down fire, 'ere then on 
earth unseen, 
Fond of the light, a satjr, standing by. 
Gave it a kiss, as it like sweet had been. 

Feeling forthwith the other's burning power, 
Wood with the smart, with shouts and shriekings 

He sought his ease in river, field and bower. 
But for the time his grief went with him stilL 

So silly I, with that unwonted sight 

In human shape, an angel from above. 
Feeding mine eyes, the impression there did light, 

That since I run and rest as pleaseth love. 

The difference is, the satyr's lips, my heart, — 
He for a while, I evermore, — have smart. 

» With Dyer's name in MS. Rawl. 85, p. 8, and " Eng- ^ 
land's Helicon/' 1600; also headed E. D. in '*the Countess 
of Pembroke's Arcadia," p. 477, edit. 1598. An anonymous 
copy in Harl. MS. 6910, fol. 154, verso. 




(By Sir PhUip Sidney.) 

SATYR once did run away for dread. 
With sound of horn, which he him- 
self did blow ; 
Fearing and feared, thus from himself 
he fled, 
Deeming strange evil in that he did not know. 

Such causeless fears when coward minds do take. 
It makes them fly that which they fain would 

As this poor beast, who did his rest forsake. 
Thinking not why, but how, himself to save. 

Even thus mought I, for doubts which I conceive 
Of mine own words, mine own good hap betray; 

And thus might I, for fear of maybe, leave 
The sweet pursuit of my desired prey. 

Better like I thy satyr, dearest Dyer, 
Who burnt his lips to kiss fair shining fire. 

' From the same copies as the preceding piece. 




(By Sir Edward Dyer.) 

^HE man whose thoughts against him do 
In whom Mishap her story doth de- 
The man of woe, the matter of [desire]. 

Free of the dead, that lives in endless plaint, 
His spirit am I, which in this desert lie, 
To rue his case, whose cause I cannot fly. 

Despair my name, who never finds relief; 

Friended of none, but to myself a foe ; 
An idle care, maintained by firm belief 

That praise of faith shall through my tormei^ts 
And count those hopes, that others' hearts do ease, 
But base conceits the common sense to please. 

For sure I am I never shall attain 
The happy good from whence my joys arise ; 

Nor have I power my sorrows to restrain, 

But wail the want, when nought else may suffice; 

Whereby my life the shape of death must bear, — 

That death which feels the worst that life doth fear. 

* MS. Rawl. 85, fol. 7, signed " M. Dier." Printed from 
that MS. by Dr. Bliss, edit of Wood's "A. 0.," vol. i. p. 
743. There is an anonymous copy in Harl. MS. 6910, foL 


But what avails with tragical complaint. 
Not hoping help, the Furies to awake ? 

Or why should I the happy minds acquaint 
With doleful tunes, their settled peace to shake ? 

All ye that here behold Infortune's fare. 

May judge no woe may with my grief compare. 



(By Sir Edward Dyer.j 

E that his mirth hath lost, 
Whose comfort is dismayed, 
Whose hope is vain, whose faith is 
Whose trust is all betrayed, 

If he have held them dear, 
And cannot cease to moan. 
Come, let him take his place by me ; 
He shall not rue alone. 

But if the smallest sweet 
Bo mixed with all his sour ; 

* MS. Rawl. Poet. 85, fol. 109, signed as below; MS. 
Tann. 306, fol. 173, with the same signature; MS. Ashm. 
781, p. 140, signed " S^ Ed. Dyer;" and Ilarl. MS. 6910, 
fol. 159. Authejiticated by Dyer himself throupjh the secret 
signature near the end, and ascribed to him by R. Southwell 
in the poem which follows in this volume. Wrongly claimed 
for Lord Pembroke in the " Poems of Pembroke and Rud- 
yard,"1660, p. 29. 


If in the day, the month, the year. 
He feel one lightening hour, 

Then rest he by himself; 
He is no mate for me. 
Whose hope is fallen, whose succour void. 
Whose hap his death must be. 

Yet not the wished death, 
Which hath no plaint nor lack. 
Which, making free the better part. 
Is only nature's wrack. 

no ! that were too well ; 
My death is of the mind. 
Which always yields extremest pains, 
And leaves the worst behind. 

As one that lives in show, 
But inwardly doth die. 
Whose knowledge is a bloody field 
Where all hope slain doth lie ; 

Whose heart the altar is ; 
Whose spirit, the sacrifice 
Unto the powers, whom to appease 
No sorrow can suffice. 

My fancies are like thorns. 
On which I go by night ; 
Mine arguments are like an host 
Which force hath put to flight. 

My sense is passion's spy : 
My thoughts like ruins old 
Of famous Carthage, or the town 
Which Sinon bought and sold ; 


Which still before mine eyes 
My mortal fall do lay, 
Whom love and fortune once advanced. 
And now hath cast away. 

thoughts, no thoughts, but wounds. 
Sometime the seat of joy, 

Sometime the seat of quiet rest. 
But now of all annoy. 

1 sowed the soil of peace ; 
My bliss was in the spring ; 

And day by day I ate the fruit 
Which my life's tree did bring. 

To nettles now my com, 
My field is turned to flint. 
Where, sitting in the cypress shade, 
I read the hyacint. 

The peace, the rest, the life, 
That I enjoyed before 
Came to my lot, that by the loss 
My smart might sting the more. 

So to unhappy men 
The best frames to the worst ; 
time, place, words, looks, 
Dear then, but now accurst ! 

In was stands my delight ; 
In is and shallf my woe ; 
My horror fastens on the yea; 
My hope hangs on the no. 


I look for no relief; 
Relief would come too late ; 
Too late I find, I find too well, 
Too well stood my estate. 

Behold, such is the end ; 
What thing may here be sure ? 
0, nothing else but plaints and moans 
Do to the end endure. 

Forsaken first was I, 
Then utterly forgotten ; 
And he that came not to my faith, 
I/O ! my reward hath gotten. 

Then, Love, where is the sauce 
That makes thy torment sweet? 
Where is the cause that som'e have thought 
Their death through thee but meet ? 

The stately chaste disdain. 
The secret shamefastness. 
The grace reserved, the common light 
Which shines in worthiness. 

would it were not so. 
Or I it might excuse ! 
would the wrath of jealousy 
My judgment might abuse ! 

frail inconstant kind, 
safe in trust to no man ! 
No women angels be, and lo ! 
My mistress is a woman I 


Yet liute I but the fault, 
And not the faulty one, 
Nor can I rid me of the bands 
Wherein I lie alone. 

Alone I lie, whose like 
Was never seen as yet ; 
The prince, the poor, the old, the young. 
The fond, the full of wit. 

Hers still remain must I, 
By wrong, by death, by shame ; 
I cannot blot out of my mind 
That love wrought in her name. 

I cannot set at nought 
That once I held so dear ; 
I cannot make if seem so far 
That is indeed so near. 

Not that I mean henceforth 
This strange will to profess. 
As one that would betray such troth. 
And build on fickleness. 

But it shall never fail 
That my faith bare in hand ; 
I gave my word, my word gave me ; 
Both word and gift must stand I 

Sith then it must be thus. 
And thus is all-to ill, 
I yield me captive to my curse. 
My hard fate to fulfil. 


The solitary woods 
My city shall become ; 
The darkest den shall be my lodge. 
Wherein I'll rest or roam. 

Of heben black my board ; 
The worms my feast shall be, 
On which my carcass shall be fed 
Till they do feed on me ; 

My wine of Niobe, 
My bed of craggy rock, 
The serpent's hiss my harmony, 
The shrieking owl my clock. 


My exercise nought else 
But raging agonies ; 
My books of spiteful Fortune's foils 
And dreary tragedies. 

My walk the paths of plaint, 
My prospect into hell, 
Where wretched Sisyphe and his phere? 
In endless pains do dweU. 

And though I seem to use 
The poet's feigned style, 
To figure forth my rueful plight. 
My fall or my exile. 

Yet is my grief not feigned. 
In which I starve and pine ; 
Who feel it most shall find it least 
If his compare with mine. 


My Muse if any ask. 
Whose grievous case was such ? 
Dy ere thou let his name be known ; 
His folly shows so much. 

But best 'twere thee to hide. 
And never come to light ; 
For on the earth may none but I 
This action sound aright. 

Miserum estjuisse, 

£. DiEB. 



(By Robert Southwell. Bom 1560; died 1595.) 

E that his mirth hath lost. 
Whose comfort is to rue, 
Whose hope is fallen, whose faith is 
Whose trust is found untrue; 

If he have held them dear, 
And cannot cease to moan. 
Come, let him take his place by me ; 
He shall not rue alone. 

* Southwell's "Poems," edit. 1630, sign, p 7, &c., with 
the title, ** A Fancy turned to a Sinner's Complaint." The 
title which I have adopted is found in the MS. of Southwell's 
poems used in both Uie modem oditioni, of Walter, p. 84, 
and Tumbull, p. 81. 


But if the smallest sweet 
Be mixed with all his sour ; 
If in the day, the month, the year. 
He feels one lightening hour. 

Then rest he with himself; 
He is no mate for me. 
Whose time in tears, whose race in ruth| 
Whose life a death must be. 

Yet not the wished death. 
That feels no pain or lack. 
That, making free the better part. 
Is only nature's wrack i 

no ! that were too well ; 
My death is of the mind, 
That always yields extremest pangs^ 
Yet threatens worse behind. 

As one that lives in show. 
And inwardly doth die ; 
Whose knowledge is a bloody field. 
Where Virtue slain doth lie ; 

Whose heart the altar is, 
And host, a God to move ; 
From whom my ill doth fear revengOi 
His good doth promise love. 

My fancies are like thorns. 
In which I go by night ; 
My frighted wits are like an host 
That force hath put to flight. 



My sense is passion's spy ; 
'^v thoughts like ruins old, 
Which show how fair the building was. 
While grace did it uphold. 

And still before mine eyes 
My mortal fall they lay : 
Whom grace and virtue once advanced. 
Now sin hath cast away. 

thoughts, no thoughts, but wounds. 
Sometime the seat of joy, 

Sometime the store of quiet rest. 
But now of all annoy. 

1 sowed the soil of peace; 
My bliss was in the spring; 

And day by day the fruit I ate. 
That virtue's tree did bring. 

To nettles now my corn, 
My field is turned to flint, 
Where I a heavy harvest reap 
Of cares that never stint. 

The peace, the rest, the life. 
That I enjoyed of yore, 
Were happy lot, but by their loss 
My smart doth sting the more. 

So to unhappy men 
The best frames to the worst : 
time, place, where thus I fell, 
Dear then, but now accurst I 


In was stands my delight ; 
In is and sAaZZ, my woe ; 
My horror fastened in the yea ; 
My hope hangs in the no. 

Unworthy of relief, 
That craved is too late. 
Too late I find, I find too well, 
Too well stood my estate. 

Behold, such is the end 
That Pleasure doth procure ; 
Of nothing else but care and plaint 
Can she the mind assure. 

Forsaken first by Grace, 
By Pleasure now forgotten, 
Her pain I feel, but Grace's wage 
Have others from me gotten. 

Then, Grace, where is the joy 
That makes thy torments sweet? 
Where is the cause that many thought 
Their deaths through thee but meet ? 

Where thy disdain of sin, 
Thy secret sweet delight, 
Thy sparks of bliss, thy heavenly joys, 
That shined erst so bright ? 

that they were not lost. 
Or I could it excuse ! 
that a dream of feigned loss 
My judgment did abuse ! 


frail inconstant flesh. 
Soon trapped in every gin ! 

Soon wrought thus to betray thy soul. 
And plunge thyself in sin ! 

Yet hate I but the fault, 
And not the faulty one, 
Nor can I rid from me the mate 
That forceth me to moan ; 

To moan a sinner's case, 
Than which was never worse. 
In prince or poor, in young or old. 
In blest or full of curse. 

Yet God's must I remain. 
By death, by wrong, by shame ; 
I cannot blot out of my heart 
That Grace writ in His name. 

1 cannot set at nought 
Whom I have held so dear ; 

I cannot make Him seem afar. 
That is indeed so near. 

Not that I look henceforth 
For love that erst I found ; 
Sith that I brake my plighted troth 
To build on fickle ground. 

Yet that shall never fail 
Which my faith bare in hand ; 
1 gave my vow ; my vow gave me ; 
Both vow and gift shall stand. 


But since that I have sinned. 
And scourge none is too ill, 
I yield me captive to my curse. 
My hard fate to fulfil. 

The solitary wood 
My city shall become ; 
The darkest dens shall be my lodge ; 
In which I rest or come ; 

A sandy plot my board, 
The worms my feast shall be, 
Wherewith my carcass shall be fed. 
Until they feed on me. 

My tears shall be my wine. 
My bed a craggy rock. 
My harmony the serpent's hiss, 
The screeching owl my clock. 

My exercise, remorse, 
And doleful sinners' lays ; 
My book, remembrance of my crimes, 
And fkults of former days. 

My walk, the path of plaint ; 
My prospect into hell, 
Where Judas and his cursed crew 
In endless pains do dwell. 

And though I seem to use 
The feigning poet's style. 
To figure forth my careful plight, 
My fall and my exile ; 


Yet is my grief not feigned, 
Wherein 1 starve and pine ; 

Who feels the most shall think it least. 
If his compare ^^ith mine. 



(By Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke. Born 1554 ; 

died 1628.) 

^HO grace for zenith had, 

From which no shadows grow. 
Who hath seen joy of all his hopes. 
And end of all his woe ; 

Whose love heloved hath been 
The crown of his desire ; 
Who hath seen sorrow's glories burnt 
In sweet affection's fire ; 

If from this heavenly state, 
Which souls with souls unites, 
He be fallen down into the dark 
Despaired war of sprites. 

Let him lament with me ; 
For none doth glory know. 
That hath not been above himself, 
And thence fallen down to woe. 

» "Ccelica," Sonnet Lxxxni, in Lord Brooke's ** Works," 
1683, pp. 228-233. 


But if there be one hope 
Left in his languished hearty 
If fear of worse, if wish of ease, 
If horror may depart. 

He plays with his complaints ; 
He is no mate for me, 
Whose love is lost, whose hopes are fled, 
Whose fears for ever be : 

Yet not those happy fears 
Which show Desire her death. 
Teaching with use a peace in woe, 
And in despair a faith. 

No, no; my fears kill not. 
But make uncuf'ed wounds. 
Where joy and peace do issue out, 
And only pain abounds. 

Unpossible are help. 
Reward, and hope to me ; 
Yet while unpossible they are, 
They easy seem to be. 

Most easy seems remorse. 
Despair, and death to me ; 
Yet while they passing easy seem, 
Unpossible they be. 

So neither can I leave 
My hopes that do deceive. 
Nor can I trust mine own despair 
And nothing else receive. 


Thus be unhappy men 
Blest, to be more accurst ; 
Near to the glories of the sun 
Clouds with most horror burst. 

Like ghosts raised out of graves. 
Who live not, though they go. 
Whose walking fear to others is, 
And to themselves a woe ; 

So is my life by her 
Whose love to me is dead, 
On whose worth my despair yet wcdks. 
And my desire is fed. 

I swallow down the bait 
Which carries down my death ; 
I cannot put love from my heart 
While life draws in my breath. 

My winter is within, 
Which withereth my joy ; 
My knowledge, seat of civil war, 
Where friends and foes destroy ; 

And my desires are wheels, 
Whereon my heart is borne. 
With endless turning of themselves. 
Still living to be torn. 

My thoughts are eagle's food. 
Ordained to be a prey 
To [wrath], and being still consumed. 
Yet never to decay. 


My memory, where once 
My heart laid up the store 
Of help, of joy, of spirit's wealth, 
To multiply them more, 

Is now become the tomb 
Wherein all these lie slain ; 
My help, my joy, my spirit's wealth 
All sacrificed to pain. 

In Paradise I once 
Did live, and taste the tree, 
Which shadowed was from all the world, 
In joy to shadow me : 

The tree hath lost his fruit. 
Or I have lost my seat ; 
My soul both black with shadow is. 
And over-burnt with heat. 

Truth here for triumph serves, 
To show her power is great, 
Whom no desert can overcome, 
Nor no distress entreat. 

Time past lays up my joy, 
And time to come my grief; 
She ever must be my desire. 
And never my relief. 

Wrong, her lieutenant is ; 
My wounded thoughts are they 
Who have no power to keep the field. 
Nor wiU to run away. 


rueful constancy ! 
And where is change so hase. 
As it may be compared with thee 
In scorn and in disgrace? 

Like as the kings forlorn. 
Deposed from their estate, 
Yet cannot choose but love the crown. 
Although new kings they hate ; 

If they do plead their right, — 
Nay, if they only lire, — 
Offsnces to the crown alike 
Their good and ill shall give. 

So I would I were not. 
Because I may complain, 
And cannot choose but love my wrongs, 
And joy to wish in vain. 

This faith condemneth me ; 
My right doth rumour move ; 
I may not know the cause I fell. 
Nor yet without cause love. 

Then, love, where is reward, — 
At least where is the fame 
Of them that, being, bear thy cross, 
And, being not, thy name ? 

The world's example I, 
A ftible everywhere, 
A well from whence the springs are dried, 
A tree that doth not bear ; 


I, like the bird in cage, 
At first with cunning caught, 
And in my bondage for delight 
With greater cunning taught. 

Now owner's humour dies ; 
I neither loved, nor fed. 
Nor freed am, till in the cage 
Forgotten I be dead. 

The ship of Greece, the stream. 
And she be not the same 
They were, although ship, stream, and she 
Still bear their antique name. 

The wood which was, is worn ; 
Those waves are run away ; 
Yet still a ship, and still a stream, 
Still running to a sea. 

She loved, and still she loves, 
But doth not still love me ; 
To all except myself yet is 
As she was wont to be. 

my once happy thoughts ! 
The heaven where grace did dwell ! 
My saint hath turned away her face ; 
And made that heaven my hell ! 

A hell, for so is that 
From whence no souls return, 
Where, while our spirits are sacrificed, 
They waste not, though they bum. 


Since then this is my state. 
And nothing worse than this. 
Behold the map of death-like life» 
Exiled from lovely bliss : 

Alone among the world. 
Strange with my friends to be, 
Showing my fall to them that scorn. 
See not, or will not see ; 

My heart a wilderness. 
My studies only fear, 
And, as in shadows of curst death, 
A prospect of despair. 

My exercise must be 
My horrors to repeat ; 
My peace, joy, end, and sacrifice. 
Her dead love to entreat ; 

My food, the time that was ; 
The time to come, my fast ; 
For drink, the barren thirst I feel 
Of glories that are past ; 

Sighs and salt tears my bath ; 
Reason my looking-glass, 
To show me he most wretched is 
That once most happy was. 

Forlorn desires my clock. 
To tell me every day 
That Time hath stolen love, life, and all 
But my distress away. 


For music, heavy sighs ; 
My walk an inward woe ; 
Which like a shadow ever shall 
Before my body go. 

And I myself am he 
That doth with none compare, 
Except in woes and lack of worth 
Whose states more wretched are. 

Let no man ask my name, 
Nor what else I should be ; 
For Geibye-ill, pain, forlorn estate. 
Do best decipher me. 


(By Thomas Lodge. Born 1555? died 1625.) 

IRST shall the heavens want starry light; 

The seas be robbed of their waves ; 
The day want sun, and sun want bright; 
The night want shade, the dead men 
graves ; 
The April flowers and leaf and tree, 
Before I false my faith to thee. 

* From Lodge's "Rosalind; Euphues' Golden Legacy," 
1590, 1592, &c. Reprinted in Collier's "Shakespeare's 
Library," 1843. 


First shall the tops of highest hills 
By humble plains be overpried. 

And poets scorn the Muses' quills. 
And fish forsake the water glide. 

And Iris lose her coloured weed, 

Before I fail thee at thy need. 

First direful Hate shall turn to Peace, 
And Love relent in deep disdain. 

And Death his fatal stroke shall cease, 
And Envy pity every pain, 

And Pleasure mourn, and Sorrow smile, 

Before I talk of any guile. 

First Time shall stay his stayless race, 
And Winter bless his brows with com. 

And snow bemoisten July's face. 

And Winter spring, and Summer mourn, 

Before my pen, by help of Fame, 

Cease to recite thy sacred name. 



(Before 1593.) 

[WEET violets, Love's Paradise, that 
Your gracious odours, which you couched 
Within your paly faces, 

» "Phoenix Nest," 1593, p. 95; "England's Helicon," 
1600, sign. T, signed " Ignoto." Thence in Brydges* and 
the Oxford editions of Raleigh's "Poems." 


Upon the gentle wing of some calm -breathing wind 

That plays amidst the plain ; 

If, by the favour of propitious stars, you gain 
Such grace as in my lady's bosom place to find, 

Be proud to touch those places I 
And when her warm th your moisture forth doth wear, 
Whereby her dainty parts are sweetly fed, 
You, honours of the flowery meads, I pray, — 

You, pretty daughters of the earth and sun, — 
With mild and seemly breathing straight display 

My bitter sighs, that have my heart undone! 

Vermilion roses, that, with new day's rise 
Display your crimson folds fresh-looking fair, 

Whose radiant bright disgraces 
The rich adorned rays of roseate rising mom ; 

Ah, if her virgin's hand 

Do pluck your pure ere Phoebus view the land. 
And veil your gracious pomp in lovely Nature's 

If chance my mistress traces 
Fast by your flowers to take the summer's air ; 
Then, woeful blushing, tempt her glorious eyes 
To spread their tears, Adonis' death reporting; 

And tell love's torments, sorrowing for her friend, 
Whose drops of blood, within your leaves consorting, 

Report fair Venus' moans to have no end I 
Then may remorse, in pitying of my smart. 
Dry up my tears, and dwell within her heart. 




(By Robert Earl of Essex. Bora 1567 1 
died 1601.) 

HERE is none, 0, none but you. 
Who from me estrange the sight. 
Whom mine eyes affect to view. 
And chained ears hear with delight. 

Others' beauties others move : 
In you I all the graces find ; 

Such are the effects of love. 

To make them happy that are kind. 

Women in frail beauty trust ; 

Only seem you kind to me ! 
Still be truly kind and just, 

For that can't dissembled be.. 

Dear, afford me then your sight ! 

That, surveying all your looks. 
Endless volumes I may write, 

And fill the world with envied books, 

Which when after ages view, 
All shall wonder and despair,—- 

Women, to find a man so true. 
And men, a woman half so fair ! 

' Printed from Aubrey's MSS. by Dr. Bliss, edit, of 

Wood's " Fasti," vol. i. p. 24r). 





APPY were he could finish forth his fkte 
In some unhaunted desert^ most 
From all societies, from loye and hate 
Of worldly folk ; then might he sleep secure ; 
Then wake again, and ever give God praise. 

Content with hips and haws and bramble-berry; 
In contemplation spending all his days. 

And change of holy thoughts to make him merry; 
Where, when he dies, his tomb may be a bush. 
Where harmless robin dwells with gentle thrush. 



HE ways on earth have paths and turn- 
ings known ; 
The ways on sea are gone by needle's 

* MS. Ashm. 781 , p. 83, as " Certain Verses made by Lord 
Essex i" and Ghetham MS. ^012, p. 86, with the title given 
above. It is said to have been enclosed in a letter to the 
Queen from Ireland, in 1599, and has been frequently 

2 Printed from a Brit. Mus. MS. by Ellis, "Specimens," 
vol. ii. p. 361, edit. 1811 ; and Devereuz, ** Earls of Essex," 
vol. ii.p. 111. 



The birds of the air the nearest way have flown, 

And under earth the moles do cast aright ; 
A way more hard than these I needs must take, 

Where none can teach, nor no man can direct; 
Where no man's good for me example makes, 

But all men's faults do teach her to suspect. 
Her thoughts and mine such disproportion have; 

All strength of love is infinite in me ; 
She useth the advantage time and fortune gave 

Of worth and power to get the liberty. 
Earth, sea, heaven, hell, are subject unto laws, 
But I, poor I^ must sufier and know no cause. 

K. £• £• 


(By A. W. Before 1602.) 

iTERNAL Time ! that wastest without 
That art, and art not, — diest, and 
livest still ; 
Most slow of all, and yet of greatest haste ; 

Both ill and good, and neither good nor ill : 
How can I justly praise thee or dispraise ? 
Dark are thy nights, but bright and clear thy days. 

» Davison's " Poetical Rhapsody," 1602, &c., p. 137, edit 


Both free and scarce, thou givest and takest again ; 

Thy womb, that all doth breed, is tomb to all ; 
What so by thee hath life by thee is slain ; 

From thee do all things rise, to thee they fall : 
Constant, inconstant ; moving, standing still ; 
Was, is, shall be, do thee both breed and kiU. 

I lose thee, while I seek to find thee out ; 

The farther off, the more I follow thee ; 
The faster hold, the greater cause of doubt ; 

Was, is, I know ; but shall, I cannot see : 
All things by thee are measured, thou by none ; 
All are in thee ; thou in thyself alone. 





(By A. W. Before 1602.) 

Y wanton Muse, that whilome wont to sing 
Fair Beauty's praise and Venus' sweet 
Of late had changed the tenour of her 
To higher tunes than serve for Cupid's fight : 

' Davison's "Poetical Rhapsody," 1602, &c., p. 25, edit. 
1621. Also in the second edition'of ** England's Helicon/' 
1612, as "An lleroical Poem," with the signature ** Ignoto." 
Thence in Brydges' and tk' ' ' editions of Raleigh's 
" Poems." 


Shrill trumpets' sound, sharp swords, and lanceB 

War, blood, and death wore matter of her song. 

The god of love by chance had heard thereof. 
That I was proved a rebel to his crown : 

Fit words for war ! quoth he, with angry scoff; 
A likely man to write of Mars his frown ! 

Well are they sped whose praises he will write. 

Whose wanton pen can nought but love indite ! 

This said, he whisked his party-coloured wings, 
And down to earth ho comes, more swift than 
thought ; 
Then to my heart in angry haste he flings. 

To see what change these news of wars had 
wrought : 
He pries and looks, — he ransacks every vein, — 
Yet finds he nought save love and lover's pain. 

Then I, that now perceived his needless fear. 
With heavy smile began to plead my cause : — 

In vain, quoth I, this endless grief I bear. 
In vain I strive to keep thy grievous laws. 

If, after proof so often trusty found. 

Unjust suspect condemn me as unsound. 

Is this the guerdon of my faithful heart ? 

Is this the hope on which my life is stayed ? 
Is this the ease of never-ceasing smart ? 

Is this the price that for my pains is paid ? 
Yet better servo fierce Mars in bloody field. 
Where death or conquest end or joy doth yield. 

Long have I served ; what is my pay but pain ? 
Oft have I sued ; what gain I but delay ? 


My faithful love is 'quited with disdain ; 

My grief a game, my pen is made a play ; 
Yea, Love, that doth in other favour find, 
In me is counted madness out of kind. 

And last of all — but grievous most of all, — 
Thyself, sweet Love, hath killed me with suspect : 

Could Love believe that I from Love would fall ? 
Is war of force to make me Love neglect ? 

No ! Cupid knows my mind is faster set, 

Than that by war I should my Love forget. 

My Muse, indeed, to war inclines her mind : 
The famous acts of worthy Brute to write, 

To whom the Gods this island's rule assigned, 
Which long he sought by seas through Neptune's 
spite : 

With such conceits my busy head doth swell, 

But in my heart nought else but Love doth dwell. 

And in this war, thy part is not the least : 

Here shall my Muse Brute's noble love declare ; 

Here shalt thou see thy double love increased, 
Of fairest twins that ever lady bare ; 

Let Mars triumph in armour shining bright. 

His conquered arms shall be thy triumph's light. 

As he the world, so thou shalt him subdue, 
And I thy glory through the world will ring ; 

So by my pains thou wilt vouchsafe to rue, 

And kill despair. — With that he whisked his wing 

And bade me write, and promised wished rent ; 

But sore I fear false hope will be the bc«t. 






(By King James I.) 

[OD gives not kings the style of gods in 
For on His Throne His sceptre do 
they sway ; 
And as their subjects ought them to obey, 
So kings should fear and serve their God again. 
If then ye would enjoy a happy reign. 

Observe the statutes of your Heavenly King, 
And from His Law make all your laws to spring, 
Since His lieutenant here ye should remain : 
Reward the just ; be steadfast, true, and plain ; 
Repress the proud, maintaining aye the right ; 
Walk always so as ever in His sight. 
Who guards the godly, plaguing the profane. 
And so ye shall in princely virtues shine. 
Resembling right your mighty King divine. 

' ''Works of King James," by Bishop Montague, 1616, 
p. 137. 




(By Sir Arthur Gorges. Jan. 1, 1609-(10).) 

:F many now that sound with hope's 
Your wisdom, bounty, and peace- 
blessed reign, 
My skill is least ; but of the most import. 

Because not schooled by favours, gifts, or gain : 
And, that which more approves my truthful lays. 
To sweet my tunes I strain not flattery's string, 
But hold that temper in your royal praise 

That long I did, before you were my king ; 
A.S one that virtue for itself regards, 
And loves his king more than his king's rewards. 


(Died Nov. 6, 1612.) 


lAIR Britain's Prince, in the April of his 
The heaven, enamoured with his 
springing grace, 

^ Priuted from the original MS. in the British Museum, 
in " Restituta," vol. iv. p. 509. 

3 << Mausoleum, or the choicest flowers of the Epitaphs" 
on Prince Henry; Edinburgh, 1613; reprinted by Mr. D. 
Laing, 1825. 


Ecfb to herself for to enrich the spheres^ 
And shine next Cynthia in the starry chase. 
And well enjoy ho might so high a place ; 

For frowning Neptune's liquid field of fears. 

And this poor mote of dust that all upbears^ 
To his great mind seemed too-too small a space. 

Yet it his corse doth keep ; dear pledge ! o'er whidi 
Affection's flames huge ppamids doth raise, 
All graven with golden letters of his praise. 

But^ ah ! deprived of a gem so rich, 

Great Britain now but great to all appears 
In her great loss, and oceans of tears. 



;HY, pilgrim, dost thou stray 

By Asia's floods renowned ; 
Or where great Atlas, crowned 
With clouds, him reaches 'bove heaven's 
milky way. 
Strange wonders to behold ? 
By Isis' streams if thou'lt but deign to stay. 

One thou shalt find surpassing all the told ; 
For there's in little room 
The prince of men['s], and man of princes', tomb. 


COURTLY 1>0ETS. 185 


ERE lies the world's delight, 
Dead to our sight, but in eternal light. 
These nine who by him moan, 
The Muses were, alas ! 

But, through his fatal case. 
Are changed like wailing Niobe in stone. 

She, clad in sable robes. 

Who, in a deadly sleep. 
Such pearly streams pours from her crystal globes. 

Is Virtue, that complains 
She wanteth Argus' hundred eyes to weep, 

Or Iris' silver rains. 
That winged Penthesileia in the air 

Fame is, his praise who rolls 

'Twixt both the starry poles. 
With earnest eyes to skies, and bay-crowned hair, 

Installed on Virtue's throne, 
This ghostly sire that tramples pale Despair, 
Brave Honour's called, who scorns to give a groan; 
For in the programme of his life he reads. 
Men's hopes of Him surmount Alcides' deeds. 







(By Ben Jonson. 1614.) 

ROM death and dark oblivion^ near the 
The mistress of man's life, grave 

Raising the world to good or evil fame. 
Doth vindicate it to Eternity. 

High Providence would so, that nor the good 
Might be defrauded, nor the great secured ; 

But both might know their ways are understood. 
And the reward and punishment assured. 

This makes that, lighted by the beamy hand 
Of Truth,which searcheth the most hidden springs, 

And guided by Experience, whose straight wand 
Doth mete, whose line doth sound, the depth of 

She cheerfully supporteth what she rears, 
Assisted by no strengths but are her own ; 

Some note of which each varied pillar bears, 
By which, as proper titles, she is known — 

Time's Witness, Herald of Antiquity, 
The Light of Truth, and Life of Memory. 

* Prefixed anonymously to Raleigh's " History/* but 
claimed in Ben Jonson's "Underwoods," No. xlii., with 
several variations. 




(By George Sandys. Born 1577; died 1644.) 

UR graver Muse from her long dream 
awakes ; 
Peneian groves and Cirrha's caves 
forsakes ; 

Inspired with zeal, she climbs the ethereal hills 
Of Solyma, where bleeding balm distils ; 
Where trees of life unfading youth assure, 
And living waters all diseases cure ; 
Where the sweet singer, in celestial lays, 
Sung to his solemn harp Jehovah's praise. 
From that fallen Temple on her wings she bears 
Those heavenly raptures to your sacred ears. 
Not that her bare and humble feet aspire 
To mount the threshold of the harmonious choir; 
But that at once she might oblations bring 
To God, and tribute to a god-like king. 
And since no narrow verse such mysteries, 
Deep sense, and high expressions could comprise. 
Her labouring wings a larger compass fly, 
And Poesy resolves with Poesy ; 
Lest she, who in the Orient clearly rose, 
Should in your Western world obscurely close. 

' Prefixed to Sandys' <' Paraphrase upon the Pialmt of 
David," 1636. 




(By George Sandys.) 

THOU, who tall things hast of nothing 

Whose hand the radiant firmament dis- 

With such an undiscemed swiftness hurled 
About the steadfast centre of the world ; 
Against whose rapid course the restless sun. 
And wandering flames in varied motions run. 
Which heat, light, life infuse ; time, night, and day 
Distinguish ; in our human bodies sway : 
That hung'st the solid earth in fleeting air. 
Veined with clear springs, which ambient seas repair. 
In clouds the mountains wrap their hoary heads ; 
Luxurious valleys clothed with flowery meads ; 
Her trees yield fruit and shade ; with liberal breasts 
All creatures she, their common mother, feasts. 
Then man Thy image madest ; in dignity. 
In knowledge, and in beauty, like to Thee ; 
Placed in a heaven on earth ; without his toil 
The ever-flourishing and fruitful soil 
Unpurchased food produced ; all creatures were 
His subjects, serving more for love than fear. 
He knew no lord but Thee ; but when he fell 
From his obedience, all at once rebel, 

' Appeuded to the same, pp. 240-4. 


And in his ruin exercise their might ; 
Concurring elemente against him fight ; 
Troops of unknown diseases^ sorrow, age, 
And death assail him with successive rage. 
Hell let forth all her furies ; none so great 
As man to man: — ambition, pride, deceit, 
Wrong armed with power, lust, rapine, slaughter 

And flattered vice the name of virtue gained. 
Then hills beneath the swelling waters stood, 
And all the globe of earth was but one flood, 
Yet could not cleanse their guilt. The following race 
Worse than their fathers, and their sons more base; 
Their god-like beauty lost ; sin's wretched thrall ; 
No spark of their divine original 
Left unextinguished ; all enveloped 
With darkness ; in their bold transgressions dead : 
When Thou didst from the East a light display, 
Which rendered to the world a clearer day ; 
Whose precepts from Hell's jaws our steps withdraw, 
And whose example was a living law ; 
Who purged us with His blood; the way prepared 
To Heaven, and those long chained -up doorg 

How infinite Thy mercy ! which exceeds 
The world thou madest, as well as our misdeeds ; 
Which greater reverence than Thy justice wins. 
And still augments Thy honour by our sins. 
who hath tasted of Thy clemency 
In greater measure or more oft than I ! 
My grateful verse Thy goodness shall display, 
O Thou who went'st along in all my way, 
To where the morning with perfumed wings 


From the high mountains of Panchsea springs ; 
To that new found-out world, where sober Night 
Takes from the Antipodes her silent flight ; 
To those dark seas where horrid Winter reigns. 
And binds the stubborn floods in icy chains ; 
To Libyan wastes, whose thirst no showers assuage, 
And where swoln Nilus cools the lion's rage. 
Thy wonders in the deep have I beheld ; 
Yet all by those on Judah's hills excelled, 
There, where the Virgin's Son His doctrine taught, 
His miracles and our redemption wrought ; 
Where I, by Thee inspired. His praises sung, 
And on His Sepulchre my oflenng hung. 
Which way soe'er I turn my face or feet, 
I see Thy glory, and Thy mercy meet ; 
Met on the Thracian shores, when in the strife 
Of frantic Simoans Thou preservedst my life ; 
So, when Arabian thieves belaid us round. 
And when, by all abandoned, Thee I found. 
That false Sidonian wolf, whose craft put on 
A sheep's soft fleece, and me, Bellerophon, 
To ruin by his cruel letter sent. 
Thou didst by Thy protecting hand prevent. 
Thou savedst mo from the bloody massacres 
Of faithless Indians ; from their treacherous wars ; 
From raging fevers ; from the sultry breath 
Of tainted air, which cloyed the jaws of death ; 
Preserved from swallowing seas, when towering 

Mixed with the clouds, and opened their deep 

graves ; 
From barbarous pirates ransomed ; by those taught. 
Successfully with Salian Moors we fought ; 


Then brought'st me home in safety^ that this earth 
Might bury me, which fed me from my birth ; 
Blest with a healthful age, a quiet mind ; 
Content with little ; to this work designed ; 
Which I at length have finished by Thy aid, 
And now my vows have at Thy altar paid. 



(By George Sandys.) 

[AYIOUR of mankind, Man, Emmanuel, 
Who sinless died for sin, who van- 
quished helly 
The first-fruits of the grave; whose 
life did give 
Light to our darkness ; in whose death we live ; 

strengthen Thou my faith ! Correct my will, 
That mine may Thine obey ! Protect me still. 
So that the latter death may not devour 

My soul, sealed with Thy seal ! So in the hour 
When Thou, whose body sanctified this tomb. 
Unjustly judged, a glorious Judge shalt come 
To judge the world with justice, by that sign 

1 may be known, and entertained for Thine ! 

^ Sandys' "Relation of a Jonraey begun A. D. 1610/' 
1615, p. 167. These are the lines referred to in the last 
poem, as an offering hung upon the sepulchre of Christ* 





(Author unknown. 1641:) 


[0, empty joys, 

With all your noise. 
And leave me here alone. 
In sad sweet silence to bemoan 
The fickle worldly height, 
Whose danger none can see aright, 
Whilst your false splendours dim the sight. 


Go, and ensnare 
With your trim ware 
Some other worldly wight, 
And cheat him with your flattering light ; 

Rain on his head a shower 
Of honour, greatness, wealth, and power ; 
Then snatch it from him in an hour. 

' " Topographer," vol. ii. p. 234, from a Harl. MS. It is 
al80 in Archbishop Sancroft's MS., Tann. 465, p. 197 ; and 
was published as a broad-sheet ballad. A copy of that 
kind is printed in the "British Bibliographer,*" vol. ii. 
p. 181 



Fill his big mind 
With gallant wind 
Of insolent applause ; 
Let him not fear the curbing laws, 

Nor king, nor people's frown ; 
But dream of something like a crown. 
Then, climbing upwards, tumble down. 


Let him appear 
In his bright sphere 
Like Cynthia in her pride. 
With starlike troops on every side ; 

For number and clear light 
Such as may soon o'erwhelm him quite, 
And blind them both in one dead night. 


Welcome, sad Night, 
Griefs sole delight. 
Thy mourning best agrees 
With honour's funeral obsequies. 

In Thetis' lap he lies, 
Mantled with soft securities, 
Whose too much sunlight dims his eyes* 


Was he too bold. 
Who needs would hold 
With curbing reins the Day, 
And make Sol's fiery steeds obey ? 
Therefore as rash was I, 


Who with ambitious wings did fly 
In Charles's Wain too loftily. 


I fall, I fall ! 
Whom shall I call ? 
Alas ! shall I be heard 
Who now am neither loved nor feared ? 

You, who have vowed the ground 
To kiss where my blest steps were found* 
Gome, catch me at my last rebound I 


How each admires 
Heaven's twinkling fires, 
Whilst from their glorious seat 
Their influence gives light and heat ; 

But how few there are, 
Though danger from the act be far, 
Will run to catch a falling star I 


were't our fate 
To imitate 
Those lights whose pallidness 
Argues no inward guiltiness ! 

Their course is one way bent ; 
Which is the cause there's no dissent 
In Heaven's High Court of Parliament. 





(" Written by his late Majesty King Charles I., doriog his 
captivity at Carisbrook Castle, 1648.") 


RE AT Monarch of the world, from 

whose power springs 
The potency and power of [earthly] 
Record the royal woe my suffering sings; 


And teach my tongue, that ever did confine 

Its faculties in truth's seraphic line, 

To track the treasons of Thy foes and mine. 


Nature and law, by Thy divine decree, — 
The only root of righteous royalty, — 
With this dim diadem invested me ; 

' Burnet's " Memoirs of the Dakes of Hamilton,*' 1677, 
pp. 381-3, as '* a copy of verses written by his Majesty in 
his captivity, which a very worthy gentleman, who had the 
honour of waiting on him then, and was much trusted by 
him, copied out from the original ; who avoncheth it to be a 
true copy." 



With it the sacred sceptre, purple robe. 
The holy unction and the royal globe ; 
Yet am I levelled with the life of Job. 


The fiercest furies, that do daily tread 
Upon my grief, my grey discrowned head. 
Are those that owe my bounty for their bread. 


They raise a war, and christen it The Cause ; 
Whilst sacrilegious hands have best applause. 
Plunder and murder are the kingdom's laws. 


T3rranny bears the title of taxation ; 
Revenge and robbery are reformation ; 
Oppression gains the name of sequestration. 


My loyal subjects, who, in this bad season. 
Attend me by the law of God and reason. 
They dare impeach, and punish for high treason. 


Next at the clergy do their furies frown ; 

Pious episcopacy must go down ; 

They will destroy the crosier and the crown. 


Churchmen are chained, and schismatics are freed; 
Mechanics preach, and holy fathers bleed ; 
The crown is crucified with the creed. 



The Chnrch of England doth all faction foster ; 
The pulpit is usurped by each impostor ; 
Extempore excludes the Paternoster. 


The Presbyter and Independent seed 

Springs with broad blades ; to make religion bleed, 

Herod and Pontius Pilate are agreed. 


The comer stone's misplaced by every pavior : 
With such a bloody method and behaviour 
Their ancestors did crucify our Saviour. 


My royal consort, from whose fruitful womb 
So many princes legally have come. 
Is forced in pilgrimage to seek a tomb. 


Great Britain's heir is forced into France, 
Whilst on his father's head his foes advance : 
Poor child ! he weeps out his inheritance. 


With my own power my majesty they wound ; 
In the king's name the king himselfs uncrowned ; 
So doth the dust destroy the diamond. 


With propositions daily they enchant 
My people's ears, such as do reason daunt. 
And the Almighty will not let me grant. 



'Ihey promise to orect my royal stem^ 
To make me great, to advance my diadem. 
If I will first fall down and worship them ; 


But for refusal they devour my thrones. 
Distress my children and destroy my bones : 
I fear they'll force me to make bread of stones. 


My life they prize at such a slender rate. 
That in my absence they draw bills of hate. 
To prove the king a traitor to the state. 


Felons obtain more privilege than I : 
They are allowed to answer ere they die ; 
1'is death for me to ask the reason. Why. 


But, sacred Saviour ! with Thy words I woo 

Thee to forgive, and not be bitter to 

Such as, Thou knowest, do not know what they do. 


For since they from their Lord are so disjointed 
As to condemn those edicts He appointed. 
How can they prize the power of His anointed ? 


Augment my patience ; nullify my hate ; 
Preserve my issue, and inspire my mate ; 
Yet, though we perish, bless this Church and State ! 
Vota dabunt quon bella negarunt. 





(By Sir Boger I'Estrange.) 

^EAT on, proud billows ! Boreas, blow ! 
Swell; curled waves, high as Jove's 
Your incivility shall know 
That innocence is tempest>proof. 
Though surly Nereus frown, my thoughts are calm ; 
Then strike. Affliction, for thy wounds are balm. 


That which the world miscalls a gaol, 

A private closet is to me, 
Whilst a good conscience is my bail, 
And innocence my liberty. 
Locks, bars, walls, leanness, though together met. 
Make me no prisoner, but an anchoret. 

\ From an original 4to edition in my possession, com- 
pared with a copy in Lloyd's " Memoirs," 1 668, p. 96 ; both 
anonymous. Lloyd caUs the verses *' the generous expres- 
sions of a worthy personage that suffered deeply in those 
times, and enjoys only the conscience of having so suffered 
in these." The piece was assisted to Lord Cape! in the 
"Gentleman's Magazine" for Feb. 1757; but is given to 
L'Estrange in a Harl. MS. that belonged to Lord Capel 
himself; see Park's Walpole, " Royal and Noble Authors,** 
vol. iiL p. 35. Other copies are mentioned by Percy. 



I, whilst I wished to be retired, 

Into this private room was turned ; 
As if their wisdoms had conspired 
A salamander should be burned ; 
And like a sophy who would drown a fish, 
I am condemned to suffer what I wish. 


The Cynic hugs his poverty, 

The pelican her wilderness ; 

And 'tis the Indian's pride to be 

Naked on frozen Caucasus. 

Contentment cannot smart ; Stoics, we see. 

Make torments easy by their apathy. 


These manacles upon my arm 

I as my mistress' favours wear ; 
And then, to keep my ancles warm, 
I have some iron shackles there : 
These walls are but my garrison ; this cell. 
Which men call gaol, doth prove my citadel. 


So he that struck at Jason's life, 

Thinking he had his purpose sure, 
By a malicious friendly knife 
Did only wound him to a cure. 
Malice, I see, wants wit; for what is meant 
Mischief, oft-times proves favour in the event. 


Here sin for want of £Dod doth starve, 

Where tempting ohjects are not seen; 
And these strong walls do only serve 
To keep vice out, not let sin in. 
Mulico of late's grown charitable sure ; 
I'm not committed, but I'm kept secure. 


I'm in this cabinet locked up, 

As some high>prized margarite ; 
And, like some great Mogul or Pope, 
Am cloistered up from public sight. 
Retiredness is a point of majesty; 
And thus, proud Sultan, I'm as great as thee ! 


When once my prince affliction hath. 

Prosperity doth treason seem ; 
And then to smooth so rough a path, 
I can learn patience too from him. 
Now not to suffer shows no loyal heart ; 
When kings want ease, subjects must learn to smart. 


What though I cannot see my king, — 

Either in's person, or — his coin ; 
Yet contemplation is a thing 
Which renders what I have not mine : 
My king from me what adamant can part ? 
Whom I do wear engraven on my heart. 



My soul is free as ambient air. 

Although my baser parts be mew'd ; 
Whilst loyal thoughts do still repair 
To company my solitude ; 
And though rebellion may my body bind^ 
My king can only captivate my mind. 


Have you not seen the nightingale 

A pilgrim cooped into a cage, 
And heard her tell her wonted tale. 
In that her narrow hermitage ? 
Even then her charming melody doth prove 
That all her bars are trees, her cage a grove. 


I am the bird whom they combine 

Thus to deprive of liberty ; 
But though they do my corps confine. 
Yet, maugre hate, my soul is free. 
And though I'm mew'd, yet I can chirp and sing, 
Disgrace to rebels, glory to my king ! 





(By James, Marquis of Montrose. Bom 
1612; died 1650.) 


Y dear and only love, I pray 
That little world of thee 
Be governed by no other sway 
Than purest monarchy ; 
For if confusion have a part, 

Which virtuous souls abhor. 
And hold a synod in thine heart, 
I'll never love thee more. 


As Alexander I will reign. 

And I will reign alone ; 
My thoughts did evermore disdain 

A rival on my throne. 
He either fears his fate too much, 

Or his deserts are small, 
That dares not put it to the touch. 

To gain or lose it all. 

' Napier*s ** Memoirs of Montrose," 1856, Appendix, p. 
xxxiv. from two old copies, and with a second part which 
is probably older than Montrose ; see Chappell's <* Popular 
Music of the Olden Time," second edition, p. 379. I have 
introduced one or two email corrections from other copies. 



But I will reign and govern still. 

And always give the law, 
And have each subject at my will. 

And all to stand in awe ; 
But 'gainst my batteries if I find 

Thou kick, or vex me sore. 
As that thou set me up a blind, 

in never love thee more. 


And in the empire of thine heart. 

Where I should solely be, 
If others do pretend a part. 

Or dare to vie with me, 
Or if committees thou erect, 

And go on such a score, 
I'll laugh and sing at thy neglect. 

And never love thee more. 


But if thou wilt prove faithful, then. 

And constant of thy word, 
111 make thee glorious by my pen. 

And famous by my sword ; 
m serve thee in such noble ways 

Was never heard before ; 
1*11 crown and deck thee all with bays, 

And love thee more and more. 




(By James, Marquis of Montrose.) 

NHAPPY is the man 

In whose breast is confined 
The sorrows and distresses all 
Of an afflicted mind. 

The extremity is great : 
He dies if he conceal, — 
The world's so void of secret friends, — 
Betrayed if he reveal. 

Then break, afflicted heart ! 
And live not in these days, 
When all prove merchants of their faith, — 
None trusts what other says. 

For when the sun doth shine, 
Then shadows do appear ; 
But when the sun doth hide his face 
They with the sun retire. 

Some friends as shadows are. 
And fortune as the sun ; 
They never proiffer any help, 
Till fortune hath begun ; 

* Reprinted from Watson's "Scots* Poems," 1706-11, by 
Park, Walpole's " R. and N. A.," vol. v. p. 106, and Napier, 
*' Life of Montrose," 1856, Appendix, p. xli., and p. 372. 


But if^ in any case^ 
Fortune shall first decay. 
Then they, as shadows of the sun. 
With fortune run away. 






HOUGH Caesar's paragon I cannot be, 
Yet shall I soar in thoughts as high as he. 

On Quintus Curtius.^ 

S Philip*s noble son did still disdain 

All but the dear applause of merited 
And nothing harboured in that lofty brain, 

But how to conquer an eternal name. 
So great attempts, heroic ventures, shall 
Advance my fortune or renown my fall. 

' Hawthornden MSS. vol. viii. Printed by Laiiig and 


Upon the Dbath op Kino Ohablbs L* 

'RE AT, good, and just ! could I but rate 
My griefis and thy too rigid fate, 
I'd weep the world to such a strain. 
As it should deluge once again. 
But since thy loud>tongued blood demands supplies 
More from Briareus' hands than Argus' eyes, 
I'll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds. 
And write thy epitaph with blood and wounds. 



ET them bestow on every airt a limb ; 
Then open all my veins, that I may swim 
To Thee, my Maker, in that crimson lake ; 
Then place my par-boiled head upon a stake ; 
Scatter my ashes ; strew them in the air : 
Lord ! since Thou know'st where all these atoms are, 
I'm hopeful Thoult recover once my dust, 
And confident Thoult raise me with the just ! 

* In " Monumentum Regale /' 1649, p. 45, as "written 
with the point of his sword." In " The History of the 
King's Majesty's affairs in Scotland," &c., 1649, at the end 
of the Preface, with the same note. So also in Lloyd's 
" Memoirs," 1668, p. 223, of. p. 641 ; and in Winstanfey's 
•* England's Worthies," 1684, p. 533. For the true account 
see Napier's *' Memoirs of Montrose," 1856, Appendix, pp. 
zxvii-ix. ; cf. p. 693. 

^ Napier's <* Memoirs of Montrose/' 1856, p. 796, and 
App., p. XXX. 

i; . 

« . ;. 

'II I ; i • 

1 •. !• I- '! 

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k , } ■ ',1 

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«. « 

■ •■ 'i ■ . I 

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HOUGH the striking vicissitucles of 
Ealeigh's life have made it a favourite 
theme for biographers, no research has 
been expended on his poems since the 
days of Oldys (1736), unless I may venture to claim 
an exception for a little volume published by myself 
in 1845. Oldys mentioned about seventeen different 
pieces ; but his references long remained neglected 
and unverified. In Birch's edition of " Raleigh's 
Minor Works" (1751), only nine of his poems 
were included;^ and when Sir E. Brydges pub- 
lished, in 1813-4, the thin quarto volume which he 
called, " The Poems of Sir Walter Raleigh, now 
first collected** he made no attempt to exhaust the 
materials which Oldys had gathered ; but swelled 
out Birch's nine to twenty-eight, by accepting two 
questionable pieces from Gayley, and appropria- 
ting seventeen poems — thirteen from " England's 
Helicon," and four from " ReliquiaB Wottonianse," 
the worthless evidence of the signature 

* Namely, in this volume. Part I., Nos. L iv. v. VL xiv. 
XVI. XVII. XXII. and xxiii« 8. 

212 NOTES. 

** Ignoto." * Not one of these nineteen additions 
has been hitherto authenticated by conclasive 
evidence. I have allowed three to remain, with 
some misgivings; for they rest on the weakest 
proofs of any poems which are still included in 
Part I.* The remaining sixteen may be rejected 
altogether from the list of Ealeigh's writings. In 
fact, six at least can be proved to be the work of 
other writers ; and the authorship of the rest is 
quite unknown. 

The Oxford editors of 1829 accepted Brydges* 
collection with only one unexplained omission, and 
annexed eleven "additional poems," most of which 
had been pointed out by Oldys nearly a century 
before. Two of these additions were mere attacks 
on Kaleigh.' The whole set, however, is retained 
in some form in ihe present volume ; * and, in seve- 
ral instances, the evidence which has been dis- 
covered is of the highest order. But this whole- 
sale adoption of so uncritical a collection as that 
of Brydges into the only general edition of Ea- 
leigh's works has proved to be a real literary mis- 

* The fact that this signature meant simply what it says, 
that an author was unknown to the original editor or printer, 
was established in my former volume (Introd. pp. xxix- 
xxxiv). A complete list of all the pieces ascribed to Ra- 
leigh which I have rejected will be found in this volume 
(Appendix to Introd. B.), and several of them are now 
printed under other heads, as there referred to. 

* Namely, Nos. xxvi. and xxvii. on the singularly weak 
evidence of the obliterated signature in ** England's Helicon ;" 
and No. xxix. on the authority of the " London Magazine." 

^ See Appendix to the Introduction A, No. ul 1, and 
IV. 2. 

* See Part I. Nos. ii. viii. ix. x. xi., two fragments in 
No. xxjii., and No. xxviii., together with the Appendix to 
the Introduction, as above. 

NOTES. 213 

fortune. Even the most careful of Baleigh'e bio- 
gitiphers have been misled by it into illustrating 
his supposed emotions from verses to which he 
has not the shadow of a claim. 

The additions made to Baleigh's Poems in the 
present publication amount to more than twice 
as much as I have been able to retain from former 
editors.^ The most important of these fresh ma- 
terials is the " Continuation of Cynthia," No. xx., 
which is now first published from the Hatfield 
MSS. The *« Petition to Queen Anne of Den- 
mark,'* No. xxi., was first printed from the Haw- 
thomden MSS., by Mr. D.Laing, in 1828-32. A few 
smaller pieces have been drawn direct from other 
MS. sources.' In the case of two well-known 
little poems, which were published anonymously, 
or under other names, during Ealeigh's lifetime 
(Nos, VII. and xxv.), the discovery of some printed 
evidence in his favour is due to Mr. J. Payne 
Collier. The lines addressed to Gorges and 
Lithgow (Nos. XIX. and xxx.), have frequently 
been mentioned; but it has been a singular over- 
sight in editors to omit poems so accessible, and 
so well authenticated, as Nos. in. and xv., which 
were assigned to Ealeigh as early as 1591 and 
1602, or to neglect the obvious duty of collecting 
the Metrical Translations (No. xxiv. 1-69), which 
occur throughout the " History of the World.** 

I. p. 3. Walter Bawely of the Middle Temple. 

' Of abont 1557 lines of verse inclnded in Part I. the nine 
poems in Birch make 254 ; the three pieces retained from 
Brydges* additions, 80; and the Oxford additions retained, 
136 ; in all, 470. My additions amount altogether to abotit 
J 087 verses. 

' e. g. Nos. xii. xiii. mil. and two or three frAgmenti In 


214 NOTES. 

As Baleigh declared on his trial, with a strong 
asseveration, that ho had never ** read a word of 
the law or statute before " he " was prisoner in tho 
Tower" (Oldys' "Life of Ealeigh," p. cexliiL), 
we mast suppose that he was merely a resident in 
the Temple for some short time after his return 
from France in 1576. There is no good reason 
for doubting that he wrote the verses, to which 
there is no other claimant. The point is discussed 
by all his biographers. Oldys believed that he 
had discovered " the links, if not the perfect chain, 
of some acquaintance between" Baleigh and Gas- 
coigne (" Life," p. xi.). 

ni. p. 5. EpUa'ph on Sir Philip Sidney, 
Ealeigh's claim to this poem was substantiated 
from Malone's papers in 1821 (" Shakespeare," by 
Boswell, ii. 580), and in my former volume of 
1845 (pp. xxxvii.-viii.). It cannot be doubted that 
Sir John Harington was alluding to the closing 
lines, when he wrote of " Our English Petrarch, 
Sir Philip Sidney, or, as Sir Walter Raleigh in 
his Epitaph worthily calleth him, the Scipio and 
the Petrarch of our time" ("Translation of 
Ariosto," 1591, Notes on Book xvi. p. 126). And 
Drummond of Hawthornden, in his character of 
several authors, says : " S. W. B., in an epitaph 
on Sidney, calleth him our English Petrarch" 
("Works," ed. 1711, p. 226). The second stanza 
is very obscure, and if separated from the first by 
a full stop, as usually printed, has no construction. 
I take it to mean, " Yet (one may try to praise 
thee who is) rich in zeal, though poor in learning ; 
rich in care ; rich in love, which envy suppressed 
during thy dear life now done, and which thy 
death hath now doubled.*' In stanza 5, the king 

KOTES. 215 

who gave Sidney his name was Philip of Spain, 
after whom many Englishmen were called, while 
he was the husband of Queen Mary. The twelfth 
stanza reminds us of the inscription (copied from 
the French) which was formerly suspended, in 
memory of Sidney, in the choir of old St. 
Paul's :— 

'' His body hath England, for she it bred, 
Netherlands his blood, in her defence shed ; 
The heavens have his soul ; the arts have his fame ; 
All soldiers the grief; the world his good name.*' 

Zooch's *< Life of Sidney," p. 289; Milman'i 

" St. Paul's," p. 379. 

Compare one of the epitaphs on Baleigh him- 
self : — 

'' Heaven hath his soul ; the world his fame ; 
The grave his corpse ; Stnkeley his shame." 

Wood's •* A. O." by Bliss, ii 244. 

The Elegy on Sidney, which follows Baleigh's, 
both in the "Phoenix Nest" and in Spenser's 
volume — a poem of forty lines, beginning, 
*• Silence augmenteth grief, writing increaseth 
rage" — is entitled, "Another of the samef* to 
which is added, in the former copy, " excellently 
written by a most worthy gentleman." Baleigh's 
second poem on the " Fairy Queen " (No. v.), is 
also headed " Another of the same ;" but, in this 
case, the phrase has generally been understood to 
mean "of the same nature," rather than "ejusdem 
auctoris." It was ascribed by Malone to Sir B. 
Dyer on the ground of the metre (which is, how- 
ever, extremely common), and by Charles Lamb 
to Lord Brooke on internal evidence. 

IV. p. 8. Sonnet on the Fadry Queen, This 
noble sonnet is alone sufficient to place Baleigh 
in the rank of those few original writerg w^'* '*••' 

216 NOTES. 

introdace and perpetuate a new type in a litera- 
ture; a type distinct from the " visions" which 
Spenser translated. The highest tribute which it 
has received is the imitation of Milton : — 

** Methonght I saw my late espoused saint." 
But Mr. Todd quotes a sonnet, printed as early as 
1594, beginning :— 

** Methonght I saw upon Matilda's tomb." 
Waldron gives another, signed " E. S.," which was 
printed in 1612 : — 

« Methonght I saw in dead of silent night." 
And the echo is still repeated by poets nearer oar 
own times. 

*' Methonght I saw the footsteps of a throne." 

Wordsworth, *' Miscellaneous Sonnets." 

" Methonght I saw a face divinely fair. 
With nought of earthly passion." 

" Lyra Apost." No. xcii. 

« Methonght there was around me a strange light." 

Williams," Thoughto in Past Years," No. LV. &c 

V. p. 9. Another of the same. These very in- 
ferior verses illustrate the height to which flattery 
of Queen Elizabeth was carried. It was she to 
whom Spenser's poem was dedicated. She there- 
fore is the "virtue" and "beauty," which are 
treated as the poet's model and appeal. Compare 
No. XXVI. p. 77. 

V. p. 9, line 2. Philumena, Compare the Hat- 
field MS., No. XX., p. 33, line 12 ; 

**Nor Pbilomen recounts her direful moan." 
In Gascoigne's " Complaint of Philomene," 1576, 
he appears to write Fhiloinene when he needs 
three syllables, and Philomela for four. 

VI. p. 11. Reply to Marlowe. The external evi- 
dence that Ealeigh wrote this poem is confined to 

NOTES. 217 


Izaak Walton ; whose assertion, however, appears 
to be sufficient in the absence of any more likely 
claimant. Few, I think, will agree with a modern 
writer, who assigns the whole to Shakespeare, 
to whom the first stanza only was ascribed in 
the " Passionate Pilgrim," 1699. The st^itement 
of Ellis, which has been constantly repeated, that 
the word " Ignoto " was pasted over the original 
signature "W. E." in "England's Helicon," is 
an absolute mistake, arising from a confusion 
with some other changes in that volume (see 
here, Nos. xxvi. and xxvii.). I have examined 
several copies of the original edition, and have 
not found a single trace of any other signature 
to this particular poem but " Ignoto ;" nor is any 
author's name supplied in F. Davison^s " Cata- 
logue of the Poems contained in England's 
Helicon," in HarL MS. 280. This disposes of 
the suggestion that Walton assigned the piece 
to Ealeigh merely because he used "a copy in 
which the alteration had not been made." In the 
second edition of the " Angler," Walton inserted, 
apparently from a contemporary broad-sheet (see 
the " Eoxburghe Collection of Ballads," L, 205, 
B. M.), the following verses, as in each case the 
last but one in the poem — 

Marlowe, '' Tby silver dishes, for thy meat. 
As precious as the Gods do eat. 
Shall on an ivory table be 
Prepared each day for thee and me. 

RaMgh, « What should we Ulk of daintlet , tfurn,-* 
Of better meat than's fit for men ? 
These are bnt vain ; that's only good. 
Which God hath blest, and sent for food/' 

Full information on varioo^ -'^fimfft/i^, 

and imitations maT be fi> wl«^« 

218 KOTES. 

ed. of Walton's "Angler," pp. 115-120; in 
Chappell's " Popular Music of the Olden Time,** 
pp. 213-215 ; and in my former volume on the 
" Poems of Wotton and Raleigh," 1845, pp. 125-9, 
and p. 136. 

vn. p. 12. Like Hermit Poor, In this case 
also a large store of early allusions may be found 
in Nicolas's ed. of Walton's " Angler," pp. 159- 
161 ; repeated with some additions in Bimbaolf s 
" Songs and Ballads from Old Music Books," 
p. 98. Attention was first called to Raleigh's 
claim by Mr. ColUer, " Bibl. Oat.," ii. 223. The 
lines seem, however, to have been condensed from 
an earlier piece by Thomas Lodge. The varioas 
readings are unusually numerous. 

viiL IX. X. pp. 13-15. Poems from " Le Prince 
d^AmoWy^ 1660. As that small volume was pub- 
lished under no particular authority, forty-two 
years after Raleigh's death, the evidence of the 
signature " W. R.," which it aflBxos to each of 
these three poems, would have seemed very weak 
but for the decisive discovery that Raleigh him- 
self quotes a line from one of them as his own 
in the Hatfield MS., above, p. 36 ; 

** Of all which past, the sorrow only stays." 
Compare ** Hist, of the World," I. ii. 5 ; in the 
last stage of life " We find by dear and lament- 
able experience, and by the loss which can never 
be repaired, that of all our vain passions and 
affections past, the sorrow only abideth." The 
expression at the end of the same piece, " My for- 
tune's fold," was used by Raleigh of his estate at 
Sherborne : " I am myself here at Sherborne, in 
mj fortune' 8 foW (to R. Cecil, May 10, 1593 ; Ed- 
wards, ii. 80). No. VIII. then, being unquestionably 

NOTES. 219 

Kaleigh*s, an editor who has pnrred nslit in <ioe 
point may claim our confidence for ite otibier two 
pieces also. It will be seen Ihxk far eaA €iC tlwee 
poems mnch older anonymoae oofnes hare been 
fonnd. In .the first line of Xa x., the last word 
shonld, apparently, be ** smari.** 

XI. p. 16. Fain would J, hmi I iart woL Ai tbe 
initials " W. B." appear to hare been added in 
the Bawlinson MS. l^ a later hand, it is poanble 
that they rest on mere conjectare; soggestod bj 
the well-known line ascribed by FaDer to Balrigh ; 
No. xxin., 1. The MSS. Taxy tinoo^ioiti Hie 
piece between '^ whereas" and *'whena&*' I 
believe the latter word, which is frequent in 
Spenser, Herrick, Ac, to be correct. 

xm. p. 19. On ihe Cards and Dws. A shorter 
copy of these verses is still in nse as a Christmas 
riddle. The double meaning will be easily traced 
all throngh. The day fixed in the first line pro- 
bably refers to the licence which prevailed be- 
tween Christmas and Twelfth Day. The fifth 
line means that many purses shall be emptied 
of their crosses — ».e., coin. But it would make 
a better antithesis with the next line to read, 
** no end of crosses " — f.«., gains. The game is 
supposed to be continued till cock-crowing, which 
gives the key to the last two lines. 

XIV. p. 20. The Silent Lover, While the evi- 
dence in B^leigh's favour is in this case strong 
and general, what is alleged for three other 
writers is in each instance isolated and weak. 
In behalf of Lord Pembroke — though he has 
found one modem supporter — no proof exists but 
the fact that the piece is assigned to him in the 
notoriously untrustworthy collection which was 

220 NOTES. 

edited in 1660 by the younger Dr. Donne. Ay toun's 
claim depends on a MS. used in an edition of his 
poems published at Edinburgh in 1844, the editor 
of which believed the piece to have been ** never 
before printed " (p. 129). The third claim restfi 
solely on the unsupported witness of MS. Ashm., 
781, p. 143, where an imperfect copy is signed 
"Lo. Walden." Mr. Collier suggests that this 
claim arose from a confusion with Baleigh's own 
title, " Lord Warden of the Stannaries ;" but I 
doubt whether that title would have been used 
alone. It is enough to say that one MS. could 
not outweigh the authority of several, unless it 
possessed some direct or unusual authority. The 
last stanza but one, which has been ascribed to 
so late a writer as Lord Chesterfield, was quoted 
in 1652, in the dedication to a play of Fletcher's, 
as written by " an ingenious person of quality " 
(Dyce's edition, vol. viiL p. 106). Several copies 
omit (perhaps properly) the first six lines. 

XVI. p. 23. The Lie. For a long time Raleigh's 
claim to this poem seemed unusually doubtful ; it 
is now established at least as conclusively as in 
the case of any of his poems. We have the 
direct testimony of two contemporary MS S., and 
tlie still stronger evidence of at least two con- 
temporary answers, written during Raleigh's 
lifetime, and reproaching him with the poem by 
name or implication.^ An untraced and unau- 
thorized story, that he wrote the poem the night 

' See them in Appendix to the Introduction, A. No. iv. 
For various readings and other details I must refer to my 
former volume, pp. 89-103. I had previously stated the 
chief points of the evidence in the ** British Critic " for 
April 1842, pp. 344-9. 

NOTES. 221 

before his death, is contradicted by the dates — ^it 
was printed ten years before that time, in 1608 ; 
and it can be found in MSS. more than ten years 
earlier still, in 1696, 1595, or 1593.^ But the 
question of the authorship is not touched by the 
refutation of the legend, when so many inde- 
pendent witnesses assert the one without the 
other. There are five other claimants, but not 
one with a case that will bear the slightest ex- 
amination. For the claim of Eichard Edwards 
we are indebted to a mere mistake of Ellis^s; 
for that of F. Davison to a freak of Eitson's ; 
that of Lord Essex is only known from the cor- 
respondence of Percy, who did not believe it; 
and those of Sylvester and Lord Pembroke are 
sufficiently refuted by the mutilated character of 
the copies which were printed among their post- 
humous writings. 

xvn. p. 27. The Tilgrimage. We may perhaps 
account for the more strange and startling meta- 
phors in this striking poem, by dating it during 
Ealeigh's interval of suspense in 1603, after his 
condemnation and before his reprieve, when the 
smart of Coke's coarse cross-examination had not 
passed away. To explain the double meaning in 

^ Malonesays 1595; Brydges, 1596; and Campbell, 1593. 
The only dated MS. which I have seen is MS. Harl. 6910, 
which has the date 1596 inserted on fol. 74, verao^ between 
transcripts of the contents of Spenser's " Complaints," which 
were printed in 1591, and George Chapman's Hymns *'In 
Noctem " and "In Cynthiara," which were printed in 1594. 
'* The Lie " occurs among miscellaneous pieces later in the 
volume ; and it is of course possible that they were transcribed 
at a later date. But the question becomes unimportant if 
we admit the probability that the poem was vrritten in 

222 NOTES. 

page 28, line 24, note that an angel was abo the 
name of a coin. 

XIX. p. 30. Sir A. Gorges, Sir Arthnr Gorges 
was Baleigh's kinsman; had been captain of 
Baleigh's own ship in the island Tojage, when 
he was wounded by his side in the landing of 
Eayal ; and has left a history of that expedition 
which is of material importance in Baleigh's bio- 
graphy. Some verses written by him will be foond 
in Part III., No. xxx. He is the " Alcgron " of Spen- 
ser's " Colin Clout's come home again," Collier^a 
** Spenser," vol. v. p. 45 ; cf. " Daphnaida," ib., 229. 
For further details, see Oldys' " Life of Baleigh," 
p. cxi., sqq,; Malone^s "Shakespeare" by Bos- 
well, ii. 245-8. 

XX. p. 31. Continuation of Cynthia, Some re- 
marks on the general drift of this obscure but 
important fragment will be found in the Intro- 
duction to this volume. I confine myself here to 
a brief comment on the text. The MS. was fully 
described by Mr. C. J. Stewart in his catalogue of 
the Cecil MSS., at Hatfield, and was mentioned 
by Mr. Edwards, who was prevented by an accident 
from printing it (see the Introduction to his " Life 
of Kaloigh," p. xxxix). I have to thank both for 
their courtesy in answering my questions on the 
subject ; and I am deeply indebted to the Marquis 
of Salisbury for giving mo access to the MS., and 
to Mr. E. T. Gunton for his assistance in com- 
pleting and revising the transcript, and in sup- 
plying me with minute details on the readings. 
The whole is in Ealeigh's autograph; and the 
main portion is written with that " extreme pre- 
cision and neatness of hand " which Mr. Edwards 
(vol. ii. p. 258) describes as characteristic of his 

NOTES. 223 

later papers ; but it is obvionsly unfinished and 
unrevised, and the construction and meaning are 
often perplexed and doubtful. The spelling is 
peculiar, even for that age ; which may, perhaps, 
be partly connected with the fact mentioned by 
Aubrey ("Letters from the Bodleian," vol. ii p. 
519), that Ealeigh " spake broad Devonshire to his 
dying day.** Thus sun is always "soonn*' or 
" soon ;*' ea^th is " yearth,'* earthquahes " yearth- 
quakes,'* mr "eayre," evermig "yeveninge," evil 
**yevill,*' even "yeven," and uneven "unyeven.** 
*• Worlds" is twice made a dissyllable (page 38, 
line 17, and page 47, line 2) ; as is also " worn " 
in the phrase, " the sorrow-worren face *' (page 49, 
line 10) ; sighs are " sythes,** and sighing " sythinge.** 
The termination le is ^ ways given broad and full : 
'*ezampell, feebell, genteU, idell, isakells, littell, 
marbell,middell, mirakells, puddells, simpell, stub- 
bell, trebeU," and "unabell." This peculiarity 
runs through his letters, as edited by Mr. Edwards ; 
where, beside the constant occurrence of the form 
with adjectives (" capabell, charetabell, cumforta- 
bell, forsibell, honorabeU, nobell,*' and the like) 
we find "castells, eagell, peopell, saddell, scrupoll, 
stabells," and " trobell.'* The letters also teach us 
that " mich" means mtbch, " nire" nea/Tf and " on '* 
one, and give many parallels to such forms as 
** diing** and ** filing.** Other spellings are merely 
odd; as "Scinthia** (twice), and "perrellike" 
{pea/rl'UJee) . These peculiarities would have greatly 
deepened the obscurity to the general reader, or I 
should have preferred to print this poem in its 
original dress. In style and metre, the piece is 
not unlike Spenser's "Colin Clout's come home 
again,** which gives us the best account remaining 

224 NOTES. 

of the poem " Cynthia," now, I fear, irrecoyerably 
lost Ealeigh*8 accents and words are ofben the 
same as Spenser's ; e, ^., among those just men- 
tioned, Spenser also makes " worlds '* a dissyllable, 
and uses " on " for " one" (Collier, vol. iv. p. 295). 
Add the accent of ** captfved," " envf/* and some 
other words; and the familiar use of "recnre" 
and " fordone," the former twice, the latter thrice 
in this one poem ; and such words as ** transper- 
sant, reave, vild, intentive, brast," and several 

Page 32, line 14 The meaning is, '* As though 
the dead did unfold to the dead." 

Page 33, line 6. The MS. has " frutfull," which 
must have been an error in writing. Gompiffe 
<* those healthless trees " just below ; and page 41, 
stanza 2, 

'* So far as neither fhiit nor form of flower 
Stays for a witness what such branches bare." 

Page 33, Ime 6. MS. " hands," in spite of the 
rhyme. So below, page 49, line 17, we haye 
*' Band " rhyming with " bands," and page 60, line 
12, "blasts" with "brast." 

Page 33, lino 24. "Tran8persant"= transpier- 
cing ; and the line means, " piercing eyes, the 
bait of my affection." 

Page 33, line 25. "My fancy's adamant "= 
magnet ; compare " as iron to adamant ;" " Troi- 
lus and Cressida," iii. 2. 

Page 34, line 11. The MS. may be read either 
" affecting " or " effecting." 

Page 34, stanza 5. The construction is, " When 
I was gone to seek new worlds," &c. 

Page 35, line 22. MS. " depting," with a mark 
of con traction: " departing," or " depicting " ? The 

NOTES. 225 

latter (though that is not mnch) approaches 
nearest to a rhyme with " sythinge,'* sighing ; 
and seems to make an easier sense. 

Page 36, line 16. MS. " lymes," limbs ; appa- 
rently mis-written for " lynes.*' The meaning is, 
** her memory embalmed my lines." 

Page 36, stanza 6. See above, No. vin. p. 13. 

Page 39, line 17. MS. "wounders," might mean 
wonders; but apparently refers to " the tyrants that 
in fetters tie their wounded vassals," just above. 

Page 40, line 6. " Fordone" = undone in Spen- 
ser, " a fordone wight ; " "a virgin desolate, for- 
done." (" P. Q.," I. V.St. 41, and X. St. 60.) We have 
it twice again in this poem, page 45, line 21, and 
page 51, line 7, meaning, as here, departed. 

Page 41, after stanza 1. Two lines in the MS. 
scribbled over and illegible. 

Page 41, line 10. MS. " reves." To reave is to 
take away, as in bereave. Here used apparently 
for dra/w8f or derives. 

Page 42, line 3, and page 44, line 5. " Belphoebe ;" 
see Spenser, " F. Q." III. v. st. 27, Ac, and for the 
allegory of " Belphoebe and Timias," in which Ea- 
Icigh was supposed to be concerned, see " F. Q." 
IV. vn ; VI. V. st. 12. 

Page 43, line 12. " Incarnate "=flesh-coloured ; 
hence pink, as in carnation. See below, page 47, 
line 28, " the incarnate rose.*' The phrase " snow- 
driven white ^ must be taken together ; and with 
the inversion wo may compare page 45, line 3, 
** after worthless worlds "= worthless after-worlds. 

Page 43, line 13. " Who" for which; compare 
" Merchant of Venice," ii. 6 (altered by Dyce) ; 

** The first, of gold, who this inscription bears," &c. 
*' The second, silver, which this promise carries." 


226 xoTEs. 

^ige 44, fltania 3. Three lines scribbled orer 
and illegible. Thej ocRii|Jeted the stama of 
which the fourth line only is left ; the middle line 
apparently aiding with ''abjdinge." On this 
page I hare used the modem forms, '* foropast" 
and ** forethoaght" ** Forthonght " (as in the 
MS.) woold mean repented, 

Pa^ 48, after stanza 4. Two lines scribbled 
over and illegible. 

Pa^ 48, line 20. So the MS. Wemighthave 
expected tMiprisoned and impent. 

Page 49, stanza 6. I follow the MS., bat some- 
thing seems wanting to complete the sense. What 
is required is an instanoe of futile labonr, like 
seekingmoistore in the Arabian desert, and the son 
after sanset ; or of disappointment, like the fidlore 
of Heroes light. The dots after « set** are in the MS. 
and it is not likely that in stanza 7, line 1, '* where** 
and " were" have been confounded, as the MS. 
spells the former " wher,** and the latter, as here, 
" weare.*' 

Page 49, last line. " Shee sleapg thy death," MS. ; 
as though, varying from the usual story, he made 
Hero sleep through the fatal storm, after with- 
drawing her light. 

Page 50, line 14. " Bras t " = hv>rstt as in Spenser. 

XXI. p. 52. Petition to the Queen. This peti- 
tion, which has been preserved in the transcript 
of Drummond of Hawthomden, resembles the 
Hatfield fragment in the stiffness of its rhythm, 
and partly in its metre. In stanza 3, line 3, the 
MS. has ** vearye,'* which I take to mean very. In 
stanza 5, line 2, the MS. has " descriu'd ; *' i, a, de^ 
scrived for described. Compare the first Sonnet 
which I have given from Sidney, page 138, line 4, 

NOTES. 227 

•* thy languished grace — thy state descries,** and 
"descrive".in Spenser, " F. Q." II. iii. st. 25, &o. 
XXXII. p. 55. Fragments, ^c. With No. 1, com- 
pare the piece given above from a Eawlinson MS., 
No. XI. p. 16. — The two riddles in No. 2 are often 
fonnd apart ; and that on Noel is sometimes 
ascribed to Queen Elizabeth. — Kaleigh's claim to 
No. 5, the well-known epitaph on Leicester, rests 
solely on the evidence of the Bridge water MSS., 
as reported by Mr. Collier. There are two anony- 
mous copies among the Hawthomden MSS. at 
Edinburgh, the first of which was printed by Mr. 
Laing, and quoted in the notes to Scott's " Kenil- 

** Here lies a valiant warrior, who never drew a sword ; 
Here lies a noble conrtier, who never kept his word ; 
Here lies the Earl of Leicester, who governed the estates. 
Whom the earth conld never living love, and the just heaven 
now hates." 

The first line of the second copy gives a variation 
worth preserving: "Here lies a noble warrior, 
who never stadned a sword." — Ealeigh*s title to 
No. 6, the epitaph on Salisbury, rests on the word 
of the biographer Shirley, who says, " which I am 
upon very good grounds assured to be his. King 
James was so much taken with the smartness of 
it, that he hoped the author would die before him.** 
It is thus introduced in Osborne's " Traditional 
Memoirs on the Reign of King James," 1658, p. 88 : 
" those that follow are from so smart a pen in the 
king's sense, that he said he hoped the author 
would die before him : who it was, God knows." 
Compare Oldys, " Life of Raleigh," p. clxxiv. — ^No. 
7 : ** My aunt Laighton " is mentioned in a well- 
known letter from Lord Essex to Dyer (Tytler'a 

228 NOTES. 

" Raleigh," p. 62). A " Lady Leighton " was, I 
believe, one of the bedchamber-women to the 
Qiieen. A " Sir Thomas Leighton " was a governor 
of Guernsey; and a " Sir William" was " one of 
his Majesty's band of pensioners " in 1612, and is 
known as a writer of verses. 

XXIV. pp. 58-75. These fragments of metre, 
which are scattered through Baleigh's " History 
of the World," have never been collected before. 
I have verified and completed the references, 
which were often incorrect or imperfect, and often 
omitted altogether. The original is nearly always 
prefixed in Raleigh's text, except that all the 
Greek passages are quoted in a Latin version. 
It is curious that the very first translation which 
we meet with in the volume is borrowed, and 
I have therefore omitted it ; .viz. book L, ch. L § 
5 ; Ovid, M etam. i. 5-8, from A. Golding's Ovid : 

'* Before the sea and land were made, and Heaven that all 

doth hide, 
In all the world one onlv face of Nature did abide. 
Which Chaos hight, a huge rude heap — " 

I have not observed any other instances of the 
kind, though it is quite possible that some may 
have escaped my notice. The second quotation 
from Ovid stands thus in Golding (p. 46) : 

" Said, I am he that metes the year, that all things do be- 

By whom the earth doth all things see, the Eye of all the 

The translation of Lucan, to which Ealeigh pre- 
fixed a Sonnet (above, No. xix. p. 30) to oblige his 
relative Sir A. Gorges, is difierent in all the pas- 
sages which Raleigh has made use of; thus : — 
No. xiv. p. 61. In Grorges, p. 141 : 

NOTES. 229 

'^ Luxury I thou prodigue vain, 
That never canst the mean retain; 
And thou, insatiate Gluttony, 
Pampered with superfluity," &e. 

No. xxxi. p. 65. In Gorges, p. 128 : 

" CflBsar small skiffs prepares and rigs, 

Composed of green willow twigs, 

And over it doth ox-hide's dight, 

Wherewith to keep them staunch and tight," &c. 

No. xliii. p. 68. In Gorges, p. 93 : 

*' So likewise, if we credit fame, 
Phoenicians were the first had name 
The use of characters to find. 
And letters to express our mind." 

But it mast not be forgotten that Ben Jonson 
claimed a share in the great History, both for 
himself and for others. The probable amount of 
Raleigh's obligations has been fairly stated by 
Oldys, exaggerated by D'Israeli, and again reduced 
to reasonable dimensions by Mr. Tytler, Mr. Mac- 
vey Napier, and Mr. Edwards. I have not thought 
it necessary to criticize the translations ; but it 
will be observed that in No. lv. p. 72, he takes 
Corythus for the hero instead of the town. 

XXVI. and xxvn. pp. 77-78. The change of sig- 
nature in " England's Helicon " leaves Raleigh's 
claims to these two poems doubtful ; but it is not 
conclusive evidence against him, because the edi- 
tor may have merely discovered that the author 
wished to remain concealed. 

Page 78, last line. " Sauncing bell" is fre- 
quently used for " saints' bell," qv^d ad sanda vocai. 
Another form found is "sacring bell," the bell 
announcing the elevation of the host. " Sain " is 
of course 8ay, as frequently in Spenser. 

xxvm. p. 80, I think it very improbable that 

230 NOTES. 

Bfileigh wrote this ballad. Sufficient literary re- 
ferences to ** Walsingham Pilgrimages " wiU be 
found in Percy, and in Chappell's *< Popular Masic 
of the Olden Time," pp. 121-2. 

XXIX. p. 82. This is one of the replies to Wither's 
verses, ** Shall I, wasting in despair." It seems to 
me quite as unlikely that Ealeigh wrote this an- 
swer as that Jonson wrote another. — Gifford's 
*' Life of Ben Jonson/* p. cxlix. ; Bliss's Wood, 
" A. 0." il 616. 


[he poems contained in this Part are chiefly 
taken from the collection of Sir Henry 
Wotton's minor writings, which was first 
published in 1651, twelve years after the author's 
death, and reprinted in 1654, 1672, and 1685. The 
first portion consists of Sir Henry Wotton's own 
poems; the second of poems found among his 
papers. I have added nothing to this division ex- 
cept a few scattered pieces, which seemed to make 
the collection more complete. 

I. p. 87. Of a woman^s heart. Several copies 
insert the following couplet after line 16 : 

" Or w*8 it absence that did make her strange, 
jrfase flower of change ? " 

Ti. p. 88. Serjeant Hoskins, John Hoskins was 
originally a Fellow of New College, where he 
graduated M.A. in 1592 ; but some sarcasms in 
which he indulged as TemB Filius for that 
year led to his expulsion from the university. A 
prosperous marriage afterwards enabled him to 

NOTES. 231 

enter at the Middle Temple, and he became a 
member of Parliament, where "a desperate allu- 
Bion to the Sicilian Vesper" consigned him to the 
Tower, June 7, 1614 This date alone disposes of 
Wood's story, that his participation in Ealeigh's 
imprisonment led to their intimacy, with the 
result that HosHns ** viewed and reviewed " the 
"History of the World;" for that volume, as 
Wood himself states, was published in April, 
1614 (A. 0. ii. 238, 626). It seems clear, how- 
ever, that his " company " was " much desired by 
ingenious men." He spent about a year in the 
Tower; and was afterwards successively a reader 
at the Temple, serjeant-at-law, a judge for Wales, 
and a member of the Council of the Marches. He 
died Aug. 27, 1638. His " book of poems, bigger 
than those of Dr. Donne," which was lost by his 
son, has never been recovered ; but a good many 
of his epigrams can be found in the small MS. 
miscellanies of the time. I have printed a few in 
No. XXV. p. 121. Dr. Bliss printed from the Ash- 
mole MSS. a piece of eighty lines, called " Mr. 
Hoskins' Dream ;" edition of Wood, " A. 0." ii. 
627. One of the epigrams which I have given con- 
sists of lines extracted from it. 

ni. p. 89. A happy life. The third stanza 
seems to be corrupt, but the reading given here 
is at all events intelligible; "Nor envies any 
whom vice doth raise." The copy found in Ben 
Jonson's handwriting sanctions this punctuation, 
reading " Or vice ; who never understood." I'he 
text in " Eel. Wotton." leaves it without construc- 
tion, reading "Nor vice hath ever understood; 
How deepest," &c. Mr. Dyce reads : " Nor vice ; 
bath ever understood," &c. 

232 NOTES. 

Til. p. 95. On the Queen of Bohemia. This 
Bprightly poem mast have been written during 
the short interval which elapsed after Sept. 1619, 
before the brief day of Elizabeth^s Bohemian 
sovereignty was clouded. It has been a favomite 
theme for imitations and additions ; of which 
three stanzas will be a sufficient specimen. The 
first and second are taken from Archbishop San- 
crofb's MS., Tann. 465, foL 43, where they rank as 
fourth and sixth (compare a somewhat similar 
copy in the " Topographer," i. 421) ; the third, in 
which the metre is altogether altered, is taken 
from the end of the copy in the Aberdeen 
** Cantus." It has found its way, with some 
variations, among Montrose*s poems (Napier's 
" life of Montrose," 1856, Appendix, p. xl). 

** Ton rabies that do gems adorn. 
And sapphires with your azure hue. 

Like to the skies or blushing morn ; 
How pale's your brightness in our view, 
When diamonds are mixed with you ? 

" The rose, the violet, all the spring, 

Unto her breath for sweetness run ; 
The diamond's darkened in the ring ; 

If she appear, the moon's undone. 

As in the presence of the sun* 

*' Should little streams command great seas, 

Or little ants the stinging bees ? 

Should little birds with eagles soar, 

Or little beasts with lions roar? 

No, no, not so, it is not meet 

The head should stoop down to the feet." 

VIII. p. 96. Sir Albertus Morton was Wotton's 
nephew, and had been his secretary at Venice. 
He was frequently employed by King James on 
foreign affairs, was knighted by him in 1617, and 
died secretary of state in 1625, Sir Henry never 

NOTES. 233 

mentions him without adding some expressions 
of affectionate regard. 

IX. p. 98. Sir A. Morton's wife was Elizabeth, 
daughter of Sir Edward Apsley, of Thakeham, 
Sussex ; was married Jan. 13, 1624, and died 8, p. 
in 1627. 

X. p. 98, The allusion in the first stanza is to the 
planet which was said to be visible at noon-day 
at the birth of Charles II., May 29, 1630. It was 
commemorated at the time, more or less directly, 
byWotton, King, Corbet, Cleveland, andHerrick; 
and after the restoration, by Cowley and Waller. 
The figure of a star is found on some of the medals 
of Charles II. 

XI. p. 99. Sir H. Wotton wrote a Latin tract 
(afterwards inserted in " Rel. Wotton.") upon the 
same occasion, with the title, " Ad Regem b Sco- 
tia redUcem Henrici Wotton ii plausus et vota, 
MDCXXXin." It was reprinted in various forms, 
both in Latin and English. 

xin. p. 103, line 1. vcding ebb» — i, e, failing, or 
retiring. Near the end, vade is fade, depart. 

XV. p. 106. HowelVs Dodona*8 Orove. This flat- 
tering estimate of Howell's allegory has not been 
ratified. Mr. Hallam sui^marily calls it "an 
entire failure." The reference in line 4 is doubt- 
less to the well-known " Argenis " of John Bar- 
clay, and the " Advices from Parnassus " of Trajan 

xvn. p. 109. I have transferred this well-known 
piece from the " Complete Angler," as particularly 
suitable in style and subject, if not in authorship, 
to have formed part of the collection in " Rel. 

Page 110, line 6, " Mind," i, e, mine, as it is 

234 NOTES. 

Bpelfc in Sancroft's MS. In some copies the line 
begins, " Dig out the bowels," which may be 

Page 110, line 20. An angel was a piece of 
money worth ten shillings (see above, p. 28, line 
24, and note). To *' yie angels " is to stake or 
hazard coins against an antagonist, who may " re- 
vie " if he is able, by putting down a larger simi. 

Page. Ill, line 7. In Sancroft's MS. these lines 
stand thus : 

** Here dwell no heating loves, no palsy fears. 

No short joys purchased with eternal tears : 

Here will I sit, and sigh my hot youth's folly," &c. 

xvin. p. Ill, line 3. Observe that the word 
" world's " is here a dissyllable, as it occurs twice 
in the Hatfield MS. (see above, p. 38, line 17, and 
p. 47, line 2.) 

XIX. p. 112. Dr. Samuel Brooke, the intimate 
friend of Dr. Donne, was a member of Trinity Col- 
lege, Cambridge, where he graduated as M.A. in 
1604, and as D.D. in 1615. He was successively 
Divinity Professor of Gresham College, Eector of 
St. Margaret's, Lothbury, Master of Trinity, and 
Archdeacon of Coventry ; and died in 1631. His 
brother, Christopher Brooke, was better known 
as an English poet. He is probably the author 
of " The Ghost of Eichard the Third," 1614, a 
poem which was republished by the Shakespeare 
Society. Eeferences to both brothers may be 
found among the poems of Donne, Crashaw, and 
William Browne. 

XX. p. 114. Chidiock Tychboume, of Southamp- 
ton, was executed, with Ballard and Babington, 
in 1586. The reply to his verses, which I copied 
many years ago from a contemporary MS., has 

NOTES. 235 

been preserved in rather an imperfect form. In 
line 4, the MS. reads, "Thy hope in hurt as 
wasted" the writer's eye having caught the line 
above; in line 11, there is an evident omission, 
which I have attempted to supply ; in line 16, the 
MS. reads, " hadst ne'er been horn ; " and, in the 
last line, it makes an unnecessary insertion, — 
"Which, unhappy man,'* &c. I am doubtful 
about the reading of one or two other words. 
"Lewdly," in line 14, means mistakenly, ignorantly. 

XXI. p. 116. The repetition of " thoughts " in 
line 4 appears to be an error ; but it stands so in 
all the editions I have used. The shortness of line 
5 in the old editions is not countenanced by the 
form of the other stanzas. The word which I have 
supplied is found only in some modern copies. 
Tlds piece is followed in " Eel. Wotton." by 
Baleigh's lines, " Even such is time," which have 
been given already in Part I. No. xxii. p. 54. 

xxn. p. 117. Though there is no reason to doubt 
that Bacon wrote these verses, his claim docs not 
seem to have been commonly known ; for it will 
be seen that his name was an aftcr-insortion in 
many of the MS. copies, as well as in "Eel. 
Wotton." The lines bear some resemblance to a 
well-known epigram ascribed to Posidippus, which 
had been very frequently translated ; e. g, in Tot- 
tel's " Songs and Sonnets," 1667 ; in Puttenham's 
" Art of Poesy," 1689 ; by Sir John Beaumont, 
and by others. Possibly from this circumstance, 
the last line frequently occurs in almost exactly 
the same shape among the minor poems of the 
time ; e, g. Bacon, as here : 

'* What then remains, but that we still should cry 
For being born, and, being boro, to die? " 

2^ KOTES. 

DnumnoBd of Hawthoniden, *< WbrkB," 1711; 

*< WU ipoald Mt OM «r Omh two offen tiy,— 
Not to bt ban, «; bong ban^ to die?" 

Biflhop King, «P6aiia," Ac 1657, p. 145: 

* At lent wi& tbat Greek sage still make as or, 
N«C to bt ban^ or, bong bora, to die." 

The mjthiaJ matlKHr of the phniae was Silenns, 
who is said to have bestowed it on his captw, 

XTT. pi 121, No. L The scm (^ Hoskins who ib 
genenlly maititmed was called BemedieeoT BemuL 
Henoe it is Teiy probable that Hoskins wrote *' My 
little Bdi," Ac whidi is the reading of a Bawlin- 


iT will save repetition to note here, that 
the old editions of the early poetical mis- 

cellanies, by which I have rectified the 

text of extracts, are as follows : — ^TottePs " Songs 
and Sonnets," those of 1557 and 1585 ; « The Para- 
dise of Dainty Devices " (first published in 1576), 
those of 1580 and 1596; "The Phoenix Nest," 
1593; "England's Helicon," the first edition, 
1600 ; and Davison's " Poetical Rhapsody " (fii-st 
published in 1602), generally the fourth edition, 
1621. But in giving mere lists of first lines, I 
have referred by page to the reprnits of Park, 
Brydges, &c, as most likely to be commonly ac- 
cessible; and I have availed myself, in one or two 

NOTES. 237 

instances, which are dnly acknowledged, of further 
information contained in Mr. Collier's recent re- 

I. p. 125. The seventh line of this piece, " As lead 
to grave in marble stone," means, " as jor lead to 
engrave," &c. ; that is, it is as hard for my song 
to pierce her heart, as for the soft metal to cut 
letters on the hard marble. In line 24, "unquit" 
means " unrequited, unpunished." In line 26, as 
again .in line 31, <' may chance thee lie," means, 
" it may chance /or thee to lie," &c. The Haring- 
ton MS. destroys the sense by reading, "Per- 
chance th&ij lie withered and old." 

n. p. 127. The copy ascribed to John Heywood is 
printed at length by Park in his notes to Walpole, 
** R. and N. A." vol. i. p. 80. It can scarcely be doubted 
that Heywood has simply laid hands on a popular 
poem for purposes of flattery, and utterly destroyed 
its beauty in the process. His copy closes thus : — 

" This worthy lady, too, bewray ; 

A king's daughter was she, 
Of whom John Heywood list to say 

In such worthy degree. 

" And Mary was her name, weet ye. 

With these graces endaed ; 
At eighteen years so flourished she : 

So doth his mean conclude." 

the readings « roseal " (st. 8, line 1), " lively " 
(i6. line 4), and "honesty" (st. 11, line 3), are 
from the old copies ; instead of " roseate," " lovely," 
and " modesty," as given in some modem texts. 

in.— VI. pp. 129-134. Thomas, Lord Vava, I have 
here selected four pieces out of sixteen, which are 
ascribed to this nobleman ; two of them printed 
among the uncertain authors in TotteVs " Songs 
and Sonnets," and fourteen in " The Paradise of 

238 NOTES. 

Dainty Devices." The following are the first line? 
of the other twelve, arranged alphabetically : — 

6. " How can the tree but waste and wither 
away." — P. of D. D., p. 64 ; " L. Vaux." An anony- 
mous copy in Harl. MS. 6910, fol. 168, verso ; and 
another printed from a Music-Book of 1596 by 
Mr. Collier, " Lyrical Poems,'* &c. p. 31. 

6. " If ever man had love too dearly bought."— 
P.ofD.D.,p. 73; "L.V." 

7. " I loathe that I did love."— Tottel, anon. 
Ascribed to Lord Vaux "in time of the noble 
Queen Mary," in Harl. MS. 1703, fol. 100. See 
more on tHs poem in Percy, Warton (iii. 64, ed. 
Park), and the Commentators on Hamlet. 

8. " Like as the hart that lifteth up his ears."— 
P. of D. D., p. 81 ; " L. Vaux." 

9. " Mistrust misdeems amiss, whereby dis- 
pleasure grows."— P. of D. D., p. 82: " L. V." 

10. " The day delayed of that I most do wish." 
—P. of D. D., p. 10 ; " L. Vaux." 

11. " To counsel my estate abandoned to the 
Bpoil."— P. of D. D., p. 81; " L. Vaux." 

12. " What doom is this, I fain would know." — 
P. of D. D., p. 72 ; " L. V." 

13. " What grieves my bones and makes my 
body faint ? "—P. of D. D., p. 3 ; " L. Vaux." 

14. " When Cupid scaled first the fort."— Tottel, 
anon. Quoted, with a wrong Christian name, by 
Puttenham, A. P. 1589, p. 200, as by ** the Lord 
Nicholas Vaux, a noble gentleman, and much de- 
lighted in vulgar making," &c. A copy in Harl. 
MS. 6910, fol. 175. See also Warton (iii. 57), 
Percy, and Ellis. 

15. " When I behold the bier, my last and post- 
ing horse."— P. of D. D., p. 103 ; " L. Vaux," 

KOTES. 239 

16. " Where seething sighs and sour sobs." — 
P. of D. D., p. 44 ; " L. V." In some editions 
ascribed to W. Hunnis. The fifth stanza begins, 
** These hairs of age are messengers ; " which forms 
the first line in some modem copies. 

It will be observed that at least three of the 
sixteen, including two of those which I have giyen 
at length, have been also claimed for other authors. 
The same remark will apply to two other pieces, 
the first lines of which I add here : — 

17. " Brittle beauty, that nature made so frail." 
— Found also among Lord Surrey's Poems; but 
Dr. Nott is rather anxious to resign it to Lord 
Vaux. See his edition of Surrey, pp. 20, 288. 

18. " To seem for to revenge each wrong in 
hasty wise."— P. of D. D., p. 30; «E. S." Mr. 
Collier mentions that there is " early authority " 
{e. g. ed. 1580) for Lord Yaux; " Bibl. Oat." i. 245. 

ni. p. 129. This is undoubtedly very " heavy 
verse," as the author acknowledges ; and it is ex- 
tremely obscure. In the second stanza we may 
perhaps suspect an inversion ; as though the 
first and third lines were nearly transposed ; " If 
weary woe enwrapped in the shroud my wonted 
cheer, which is eclipsed, &c. (so that it) lies slain 
by tongue of the unfriendly sort." (Both the old 
editions used read, " If weary we.") In line 15, 
all the copies I have seen read, " On that I gajpe 
the issue," &c., for which I have conjectured, 

gage," L e. stake. 

IV. p. 130. The old reading of the first line, 
do grow" is an instance of one of the commonest 
errors in Elizabethan grammar; when the verb is 
made to agree with the number of the nearest 
nonn, even though not a nominative at all. So 



240 NOTES. 

in line 4, the old reading is, " lies hid." Compare 
page 78, line 9, where the old editions have, " By 
her the virtue oi the stars down slide" 

T. p. 132. The old editions nsed omit " in " in 
the second line, and in line 3, begin << The most of 
all.*' In line 21, 1 have followed Ellis and others 
in reading « Fear " for " Few." 

Tn. p. 135. The smoothness and ingenuity d 
this piece, at so early a date, have caiuBed some 
suspicions. " If these are genuine,'* says Mr. 
Hal lam, ** and I know not how to dispute it, they 
are as polished as any written at the close of tl^ 
Queen's reign." It is confessed that there is one 
mistake already in the date ; but Park's proposal 
to support a legend prefixed to them by substi- 
toting (me still earlier, would only increase the 
manreL In one or two words I have followed the 
readings of Dr. Nott, " Surrey," p. ocbmx. 

Tin. p. 136. The scattered Terses ascribed to 
Qu«%n Elizabeth are collected in Park's Wal- 
pole, " R. and N. A.," i. 84-109, and in Mr. Dyee's 
" British Poetesses," pp. 15-23. In line 21 of this 
piece, "The daughter of debate*' is Mary Queen 
of Scots. The last couplet, as it stands in Put- 
tenham, is imp)erfect, I have supplied the de- 
ficiency from the Oxford MS. Percy reads, " shall 
qukl'ly poll ;*' Brrdcres, "for Imdess joj.^* 

ix.-x. pp. lo7 — 141. It is impossible to represent 
properly the Courtly Poets of Elizabeth without an 
extract from the writings of Sir Philip Sidney ; in 
whose case I have therefore made a brief exception 
to the rule, which has led me generally to exclude 
specimens from those poets whose works have 
already been collected and edited. All requisite 
information on the version of the Psalms ascribed 

"'dney and his sister is given in Park's edition 

NOTES. 241 

of Walpole's " Eoyal and Noble Authors," vol. ii. 
pp. 203-4, and in the Preface prefixed to the first 
printed edition in 1823. 

xi-xv. pp. 142-7. Edward, Earl of Oxford. To 
the five pieces here ascribed to Lord Oxford, the 
following sixteen may be added, making twenty- 
one in all : — 

6. " A crown of bays shall that man wear." — 
Par. of D. D., p. 70; " E. 0." 

7. " Doth sorrow fret thy soul P 0, direfiil 
spirit !" — Six lines in " England's Parnassus," 1600, 
p. 26, reprint; "E. of 0." Also anon, with 
•• Astrophel and Stella," 1691. 

8. "Even as the wax doth melt, or dew con- 
sume away."— P. of D. D., p. 77 ; " E. 0." 

9. " Faction that ever dwells in court where wit 
excels." — Printed with Sidney's " Astrophel and 
Stella;" and reprinted in Collier's "Bibl. Cat.," 
Additions, p. ii. ; " E. 0." Cf. ib., vol. i. p. 37. 

10. " Framed in the front of forlorn hope past all 
recovery."— P. of D.D., p. 24 (corrected); " E. 0." 

11. "I am not as I seeni to be." — P. of D. D., 
p. 76 ; " E. 0." 

12. " If care or skill could conquer vain desire." 
— P. of D. D., p. 74; " M. B.," but ascribed to Lord 
Oxford in ed. 1678 (Collier), and in ed. 1680. 

13. " Love is a discord and a strange divorce." 
— Eighteen lines in " England's Parnassus," p. 
208; «E. 0." 

14. "My meaning is to work what wonders 
love hath wrought."— P. of D. D. p. 78 ; " E. 0." 

15. " Sitting alone upon my thought in melan- 
choly mood." — " Verses made by the Earl of Ox- 
ford ;" MS. Eawl. 86, fol. 11. 

16. " The lively lark did stretch her wing." — 

242 NOTES. 

P. of D. D. p. 69; "E. 0." MS. EawL 85, foL 14, 
verso. " Earl of Oxford." 

17. "The trickling tears that fall along my 
cheeks."— P. of D. D. p. 75 ; " E. O." 

18. " YiThat plague is greater than the grief of 
mindP" — Six lines in "England's Pamassne," p. 
252 ; "E.of Ox." Anon. with "AstrophelandStella." 

19. " YiThat shepherd can express." — England's 
Helicon, p. 87 ; " Earl of Oxenford." 

20. " When I was fair and young, then favour 
graced me."^— Lord Orford*s Works, i. 552, "from 
an ancient MS. Miscellany.'* Also in Ellis. But 
in MS. Bawl. Poet. 85, fol. 1, signed " Elysabetha 

. 21. " Who taught thee first to sigh, alas ! my 
heart."— MS. Eawl. 85, fol. 16, verso. "Earl of 

II. p. 142. The copies of this piece differ widely. 
That which Ellis has printed resembles the text 
of the Harleian MS. The following readings may 
be worth observing: line 6, "pride of May;" lino 
14, " unsawury lovers' tears ;" line 32, " Ten thou- 
sand times a day." 

xn. p. 143. In the third line, Mr. Palgrave rightly 
corrected Dr. Bliss's reading, " make me bond," into 
"make men bond." It is "men" in the copy 
printed by Byrd in 1587. 

xin. p. 144. This singular poem looks like an 
exercise in alliteration. In line 6, " or " probably 
means "before ;" " before I suffer wrong again." 

xrv. p. 146, line 1 . Mancliet is fine bread, which is 
constantly, as here, contrasted with cheat, or 
coarse bread. In the "proportion for a royal 
dinner," in the time of Philip and Mary, the first 
three items are, " Pyne manchett, fyne chett, and 
^ther chett ;" Gutch, " CoUect. Cur." voL ii. inU. 

NOTES. 243 

'* No manchet can so well the courtly palate please, 
As that made of the meal fetched from my fertile leas ; 
Their finest of that kind, compared with my wheat, 
For whiteness of the bread doth look like common cheat.** 

Drayton, " Polyolbion," xn., p. 250. 

XV. p. 147, Epig. 2, line 1, evidently means, " yet 
thou could*8t not command content." The ellipsis 
occurs also in Walpole's printed copy. In line 2 
of the third stanza, p. 148, " swad " is a country- 
man ; a rude clown. 

XVI. — ^xix.pp.l49 — 160. 8irEdwa/rdDyer. Dyer 
is another member of the Elizabethan court-circle 
whose poetry was so early lost in the mass of un- 
appropriated and fugitive verses, that though 
Futtenham had praised him in 1589 as "for elegy 
most sweet, solemn, and of high conceit," Edmund 
Bolton in the next reign said, that he had « not seen 
much of Sir Edward Dyer's poetry" (see other 
references in Park's edition of Warton, H. E, P. 
iiL 230). We are fortunately now in a position to 
give a rather more complete account of it. Mr. 
Collier has discovered and described two rare 
works by Dyer; " The Praise of Nothing," 1585, 
which is chiefly in prose, and " Six Idyllia of 
Theocritus," 1588, a metrical translation (see his 
•* Life of Spenser," p. Ixxvi. note, and his " Bibl. 
Oat." i. 237 ; ii. 24, 60). Of Dyer's minor poetry, I 
have here printed four very characteristic speci- 
mens ; two of which possess the special interest, 
that the replies and imitations annexed to them 
remind us that Sidney, Dyer, and Greville formed 
a close brotherhood of poets ; as Sidney himself 
has recorded in a poem prii\|ed in Davison's 
"Poetical Ehapsody," — "upon his meeting with 
his two worthy friends and fellow poets. Sir 
Edward Dyer and Mr. Fulke Greville." To these 
four, the following pieces may be added : 

244 NOTES. 

5. **Ala8, my heart, mine eje hath mronged 
thee."— England's Helicon, p. 88 ; " S. E. Dyer." 

6. " Amaryllis was full fair."— MS. RawLPoet. 
85, foL 98, vergo, " E. Dier." Also in MS. Tann. 
306, p. 174 

7. ** Among the woes of those unhappy wights." 
— A long elegy on Sidney, containing from fifty- 
four to sixty-one stanzas of six lines each ; printed 
from Breton, but without any author's name, in 
Bishop Butler*s '* Sidneiana," pp. 41 — 53; and 
identified as Dyer*s in Chetham MS. 8012, pp. 143- 
153, where the title is ** An epitaph composed by 
Sir Edward Dyer of Sir Philip Sidney." As 
Breton's in MS. Bawl Poet. 85, fol. 23. 

8. ** As rare to hear as seldom to be seen." — 
MS. Bawl. Poet. 85, fol. 7, verso, " M. Dier." 

9. ** Divide my times and race my wretched 
hours."— MS. Bawl. Poet. 85, fol. 37 ; " M. Dier." 

10. «*If pleasures be in painfulness." — ^P. of 
D. D. p. 20 ; " M. D." Dyer's claim is admitted 
by Bitson and Dyce. 

11. "I would it were not as it is." — MS. Bawl. 
Poet. 85, fol. 6. "M.Dier." 

Another piece beginning " O more than most 
fair, full of the living fire," which is signed 
" M. Dior " in MS. Bawl. Poet. 85, fol. 7, verso, 
is really one of Spenser's Sonnets ; No. VIII., 
vol. v., p. 119, Collier. A poem of Lord Brooke's 
begins in the same way, " Works," 1633, p. 162, 
but the pieces are difierent. It is only another 
instance of the poetical intercourse between these 

"We may also add several quotations in Putten- 
ham's " Art of Poesy," 1589, pp. 141, 176, 198. 
The following pieces have been ascribed to Dyer, 

NOTES. 245 

but appear to belong properly to Thomas Lodge ; 
and I think the list could be extended : 

1. " Alas, how wander I amidst these woods." 
— B. H., p. 183 ; " S. B. D." But it is in Lodge's 
" Eosalind," p. 120, reprint. 

2. "Like desert woods with darksome shades 
obscured."— B. H., p. 112 ; " S. B. D." but repeated 
on p. 224, with the signature Ignoto. Hence 
claimed for Sir W. Raleigh by Brydges and the 
Oxford editors. A copy occurs in the " Phoenix 
Nest," 1593, p. 59, with the signature, " T. L. Gent." 

3. " My Phyllis hath the morning sun."— E. H. 
p. 63 ; " S. E. D." Accepted by Ellis. But see 
ColUer, " Bibl. Cat." i. 72, 467. 

4. " When the dog," &c.— B. H., p. 154; " S. E. 
D." But it is in Lodge's " Rosalind," p. 120. 

Mr. Collier also conjectures that the poem, " A 
shepherd poor, Eubulus called he was," which is 
commonly ascribed to Francis Davison, may have 
been really written by Sir E. Dyer; " Bibl. Cat." 
i. 188; and Malone proposed, as I have noted 
before (p. 215), to ascribe to him the elegy on 
Sidney, beginning, " Silence augmenteth grief, 
writing increaseth rage." 

XVI. p. 149. I have given a full account of the 
various editions and imitations of this favourite 
poem in my former volume, p. Ixv. note. The 
authority of this one MS. is considerable, be- 
cause of the number of Dyer's pieces which it 
has preserved ; and popular as the poem was, I am 
not aware that there is any other claimant for it. 

xvn. p. 161. All the printed copies, old and new, 
so far as I have seen them, and also the Rawlinson 
MS., give in the third line the unintelligible read- 
ing, "Fond of delight" For the true reading, 

246 NOTES. 

" Fond of the light,** we are indebted to the Har- 
leian MS. In line 6, " wood "= mad. Hemck has 
a short poem on the same cx)nceit : 

** I played with love, as with the fire 
The wanton satjT did,".&c. 

" That satyr he but burnt his lips. 
But mine's the p^reater smart," &c. 

" Toems,'* p. 217, ed. Hazlitt. 

xvin. p. 153. In line 3, both MSS. read " the 
matter of vrmhap" which destroys the rhyme. 
There are, however, many variations between 

XIX, p. 154. This poem must have been highly 
esteemed to have obtained the compliment of 
adaptation and imitation from Bobert Southwell 
and Lord Brooke ; and yet I am not aware that it 
has ever been printed before, except very imper- 
fectly among the " Poems of Pembroke and Rud- 
yard," and some extracts by Malone. The MS. 
copies differ exceedingly, both in various readings 
and in omissions. I have made out the best text 
that I could, from a careful comparison of all the 
materials. It is the same piece which Wood 
erroneously called " A Description of Friendship" 
(A. 0. i. 741); a title which he took by mistake 
from another poem in the Ashmole MS. 

Page 156, line 16. "I read the hyacint" (so 
spelt for the rhyme) ; L e. read the fancied letters 
on its leaves : — "on which are writ the letters of 
our woe" (Beaumont). See Ovid, Metam. x. 215. 
Some copies have " reap the hyacinth." 

Page 159, line 5. " Heben ;" so often Spenser, 
for ebony ; " His spear of hehcn wood." — " F. Q." 
I. vii. st. 37. 

Page 168, line 27. I have substituted " wrath" 

NOTES. 247 

for " worth ;" and have corrected two or three 
other errors of the press in different parts of the 

Page 171, line 9. " The ship of Greece " is clearly 
the famous ship in which Theseus returned after 
slaying the Minotaur. The Athenians professed 
to preserve it till the days of Demetrius Phale- 
reus, the rotten timbers being carefully removed 
and renewed from time to time, so that it became 
a favourite question whether a ship of which 
every plank had been often changed could still be 
called the same (Plutarch, Thee. p. 10, ed. 1620). 
This passage, in which Lord Brooke compares the 
changes of his mistress to that ship of Greece and 
to the ever-flowing stream — the same, yet not the 
same— perpetually altering, yet bearing continu- 
ously " their antique name," — ^is an excellent 
specimen of the subtle conceptions which he loved 
to elaborate in his poetry. But the whole poem is 
raised to a level of thought curiously different 
from that of the two pieces by Dyer and Southwell 
with which it is connected. 

xxn. p. 173. I have inserted this pretty poem 
from the works of Lodge, because his verses have 
been so much mixed up with those of Dyer. Lodge 
was first an Oxford student ; then a voyager ; next a 
lawyer ; finally a physician ; and died of the plague 
in 1625. He had also a literary connection with 
the dramatist Eobert Greene, who frequently uses 
the same imagery; e.g. in his "Never too late," 
1590 : — " Then shall heaven cease to have stars, 
the earth trees, the world elements, and every- 
thing reversed shall fall to their former chaos*' 
(Dyce, " Life of Greene," p. ix.). And in " Alphon- 
Bus, King of Arragon " (Dyce, ii. 18) : 


ii"s p> 174. O temc the use of adjectiTes for 
k»su^t«b: inee 175, line 14, •« bright" f(V 
asKZBSS ; iiae 17, **poFe'* for puritj. 

E4itTU Emrl of EsteM. To these 

br E&abeth'B Inrilliant bat ill. 

% tbe loDovmg mmj be added: 

skr amd, sbice sbe doth diangte." 

sicBLBmiaet,*' AcL, 1610, CSuitaB IL, 

«u: of EaocbBd.* Ananjinoiisfy in «< Wit's In- 
r," 1$71, p. 128 : andMS.BftwLPoet.85, 

^ * There Ti^ v^B * time wben olfybees could 
r-^FHued firom a Soane MS. by Fftrk, 
WaSzxde-^ - K and X. A^' iL 113. Another MS. 
is9mdlisrMr.CoDier,«*BibLGkt.''ii.l89. The 

&^ liiTse naczas w « e printed in a mnsic-booik of 
I>r=vjL=.i*5 ; Pemr Soc. toL liii. pi 72. Other 
ccc£r< xo^ hi Harl. MS. Oi^lO, fol. 167 ; in MS. 
^^'■"^ 7':7. :?1 1, and 7S1, p. 132 ; and in MS. 

6. - M-iises no Txrre^ bat Mazes be yom name.** 
— HatI MS. t!?l'X fa!. LSI. as bv " Comes Essex." 
T^-erjce prinTed in *• Eic Tndor." voL i. p. 33. 

7. ~ To r^Iead mv faith where faith hath no re- 
ward." — ^Dodaiid. 1610. as above ; Cantos tl 

Another po?ni is f j^ind ia MS. Ashm. 767, fol. 
t4. entitled ^ Essex's last Voyage to the Haven of 
Happiness," beginning, " Welcome, sweet death, 
the kindest friend I hare.'' Bat this piece seems 
to be merely an elegy on his demise ; after the 
manner of ** The lieatenant's Legend,'' or ** The 

NOTES. 249 

deepairiiig Complaint of wretched Ealeigh." Sir 
Henry Wotton says that "to evaporate his 
thoughts in a Sonnet" was Essex's "common 
way ;" and from one of these he quotes the couplet 
(" Eel. Wotton." p. 165, ed. 1685) : 

*' And if thou should'st by her be now forsaken, 
She made thy heart too strong for to be shaken." 

The history of " his darling piece of love and self- 
love " (ib, p. 174), appears to have been made out 
sufficiently by Mr. Spedding ; " Life of Bacon," 
vol. i. pp. 374-391. Mr. Hallam passes a very high 
eulogium on his prose; " Literature of Europe," 
vol. iii. p. 145, ed. 1843. I am not aware that his 
supposed translation of one of Ovid's Epistles has 
been found ; Warton, H. E. P., iii. 340-1. 

xxvn.— vin. pp. 178-181. A, W. It is very re- 
markable that no clue has been discovered to the 
owner of these initials, the author of a large portion 
of the best poems in Davison's " Poetical Bhap- 
Body." At one time Brydges had proposed to give 
Ealeigh the credit of the entire series, which had up 
to that time been anonymous ; but the intention 
was defeated by the production of a list, which Sir 
H. Nicolas pronounces to be in the handwriting of 
Francis Davison himself, entitled, " Catalogue of 
all the poems in rhjrme or measured verse by 
A. W." (Harl. MS. 280, fol. 102), and including all 
the poems in question. It is impossible to with- 
hold our sjrmpathy for Brydges' disappointment. 
The guess was a good one. The poems would 
have done Ealeigh no dishonour. They present 
many marks of strong resemblance to his authen- 
ticated poems ; and the longer piece which I have 
here inserted would have commended itself to 
every one as a natural and appropriate statement 

250 KOTfiS. 

of Saleigh^s gradml change of style, and progress 
towardfl matoritj of thought. 

TTTT. p. 183. These specimens of ele^es on 
the premature death o( Heniy, Prince of Wales, 
are taken from one of the reprints in Mr. Laing's 
•* Fugitire Scottish Poetry of the xvnth cen- 
tory," 1825. The editor remarks, p. vi, that the 
signature Ignoto is here *' supposed to designate 
Sir Walter Baleigh." Baleigh*8 feelings on the 
death of a prince, in whose grave his hopes were 
boried, are expressed with touching brevity in the 
last sentence of his "Kstoiy of the World;" 
*< whereas this book, by the title it hath, calls 
itself the first part of the general History of the 
World, implying a second and third volume, which 
I also intended and have hewn out ; besides many 
other discouragements persuading my silence, it 
hath pleased God to take that glorious prince out 
of the world, to whom they were directed ; whose 
unspeakable and never enough lamented loss hath 
tauf]^ht mo to say with Job (xxx. 31), versa est in 
hiduvi dihara mea, et organum meum in vocem 

xxxin. — ^v. pp. 187-191. George Sandys, This 
writer, whose name carries us back (through his 
brother Edwin) to the days of Kichard Hooker, 
and whose versification received the praises of 
both Dryden and Pope, occupied several offices of 
trust under the crown, and addressed his royal 
patrons in several dedications, both in verse and 
prose. The word "god-like," page 187, line 14, 
may be understood simply in the official sense, of 
the "divinity " that " doth hedge aking ; " as in King 
James's Sonnet, above. No. xxix., " Grod gives not 
kings the style of gods in vain ; " or as Lord Bacon, 

Notts. 251 

Essay xix., " All precepts concerning kings are in 
effect comprehended in those two remembrances : 
Memento quod es homo ; and Memento quod es JDeus, 
or vice Dei; the one bridleth their power, and the 
other their will." 

XXXIV. p. 188. This striking commemoration 
of his perils can be partially illustrated from his 
" Travels," on at least the Eastern side. For the 
Simoans, see pp. 15, 28; ho had gone on board 
"a bark Armado of Simo, a little island havd 
by the Ehodes," the sailors of which indulged in 
a drunken disturbance which is vividly described. 
For Arabian thieves, see pp. 138-9 ; for the Emir 
of Sidon, pp. 210-2 ; though this story seems to bo 
but partly told. It can scarcely be necessary to 
refer for the letters of Bellerophon to Homer, 
Hiad, VI. 168. 

XXXV. p. 191. This undoubtedly genuine poem 
of Sandys has found its way into the Works of 
Drummond of Hawthornden, 1711 ; Poems, p. 45 ; 
not the only instance of misappropriation in that 

XXXVI. p. 192. It is now agreed on all hands 
that this is only " a broad-sheet ballad " on the 
death of Strafford ; though the unknown writer 
has for once risen far above the level of his class. 
" The Lieutenant's Legend," which is, doubtless, 
just as little genuine, is reprinted in Park's Wal- 
pole, " E. and N. A.," vol. ii. pp. 335-9. It begins : 

" Eye me, ye mounting cedars; once was !• 
As you are, great; rich in the estimate 

Of prince and people ; no malignant eye 
Reflected on me ; so secure my state," &c. 

xxxvn. p. 195. The word " earthly" in line 2 

252 NOTES. 

is a saggestion of the Archbishop of Dublin^s, to 
complete the imperfect metre. 

XXXVIII. p. 200. In line 5, " sophy " is changed in 
most modern editions to sophist. The word, which 
occurs in Shakespeare, &c., as a Persian title, is 
ased by Giles Fletcher for the Magians : 

" To see their king^ the kingly Sophies come." 

" Christ's Victory," 1610, st. Ixxxii, p..24. 

Page 200, line 19. The reference is to the story 
how Jason of Pheraa mecUdnam irvoemt ex hoste, 
when the dagger of an assassin saved his life by 
opening an imposthnme which his physicians had 
given over as incurable: Pliny, H. N. vii. 61; 
Cicero, De Nat. D. iii. 28 ; Valerius Maximus, I. 
viii. Bxtema, § 6. 

Page 201, stanza ix. This stanza is rejected 
by Lady Theresa Lewis, as at variance with the 
drift and purport of the poem ; " Clarendon Gral- 
lery," vol. ii. p. 183, note. But it is found in the 
original 4to., and in Lloyd. The copies of the poem 
differ widely, both in arrangement and in readings. 

XXXIX — XLi., pp. 203-207. Marquis of Montrose, 
The fragments of verse ascribed by Watson and 
others to Montrose have been collected with great 
care by Mr. Mark Napier. It is suflBcient there- 
fore to refer to his work for details on the following 
list, which is given in continuation of the six 
pieces here printed : — 

7. "As Macedo his Homer, I'll thee still." 
Six lines on Lucan ; Napier, p. 60. 

8. "Burst out, my soul, in main of tears." 
Supposed to have been written on the death of 
Charles I. ; ib. Appendix, p. xlii. 

9. " Here lies a dog whose quality did plead." 
From Balfour's MSS., ih. p. 377. 

NOTES. 253 

10. " There's nothing in this world can prove." 
Ih, Appendix, p. xli. 

11. " When Heaven's great Jove had made the 
world's round frame." lb. Appendix, p. xl. 

Another fragment which Mr. Napier has retain- 
ed from Watson, Appendix, p. xl., and p. 464, has 
been printed above, p. 232, from the " Aberdeen 
Song Book," 1682, where it forms the last verse 
of a continuation of Sir H. Wotton's poem on 
the Queen of Bohemia. The second part of the 
Ballad No. xxxix. consists of thirteen additional 
stanzas ; Napier, Appendix, p. xxxv. It begins : 

*' My dear and only love, take heed — " 

But Mr. Chappell gives reasons for supposing 
that this other piece dates from the reign of James 
I., and Montrose was only bom in 1612. 

Page 204, line 13. This is Mr. Napier's text ; 
but most copies retain the Scottish pronunciation, 
•* Or committees if thou erect." In the last stanza, 
also, I follow Mr. Napier; and annex here the 
better-known reading given by Sir W. Scott, 
" Legend of Montrose," ch. xv. : 

'* But if no faithless action stain 

Thy true and constant word, 
I'll make thee famous by my pen, 

And glorious by my sword : 
I'll serve thee in such noble ways 

As ne'er were known before ; 
I'll deck and crown thy head with bays, 

And love thee more and more." 

Page 206, line 5. " Paragon " is used for eqi*al, 
parallel, or rival. Shakespeare employs it in the 
same sense as a verb : 

" If thou with Cissar paragon again 
My man of men.'* 

" Antony and Cleopatra," i. 5. 



'H ! wretched they that worship vanities . 66 
A king? oh, boon for my aspiring mind! 148 
And now all nature seemed in love . 101 

A Satyr once did run away for dread . 152 
As Philip's noble son did still disdain . 206 
Astnea last of heavenly wights the earth did leave . 62 
As you came from the holy land . . . .80 

Beat on, proud billows! Boreas, blow . . .199 

Because that, stealing immortality • . . ' . 69 

Before the sixth day of the next new year . . .19 

Believe it, sir, you happily have hit . . . .106 

Bura and Helice on Achaian ground . . * .64 

But fortune governed all their works, till when . . 67 

B^ gifts the Macedon clave gates asunder . . .74 

Galling to mind, my eyes went long about ... 4 

Come hither, shepherd's swain ! 142 

Come live with me, and be my love . . . .10 
Come, sleep; O sleep! the certain knot of peace . . 138 

Conceit, begotten by the 03*03 22 

Cowards may fear to die ; but courage stout . . 57 

Dazzled thus with height of place . • 
Diseases, famine, enemies, in us no change have 
Dum puer es, vansB nescisque incommoda vocis 

Eternal Mover, whose diffused glory . • 
Eternal Time I that wastest without waste 
Even such is time, that takes in trust . 
Even they that have no murderous will 


. 93 

»ught 59 

. 121 

. 91 
. 178 
. 54 
. 75 





Wt 1 4ai« Bot ; I due, and jet I may not 
yet fear I to Ddl . . . . 
Wt Fary makes me fret . 

ia tlm April of his jears 
feUica, pleanig tronhlea! 
want aUrry light 
dark obtiTioo, near the same 

froai thj Uood, O heaven, they came 
knid hard-hearted is^oidiuing pain and 

differs fiu- 

eaa prevail 
mj acallop shell of qaiet 

• • • m • 

the St jie of gods in vain 

if* , 


i jwt! caald I but rate 

of the world, from whose power springs 

Had Lksb hid the tr«th to please the time 

Happr wm he eoald fush forth his late 

Hare rptri i l care that valiant p ofe ity 

Heaven and earth one form did bear . 

He irst dec eas e d ; she for a little trkd 

Here lies Hobhiool, oar pastor whilere 

Here lies the man was bom and cried 

Here lies the noble warrior that never blonted sword . 

Here bes the world's delight 

Here Tantalus in water seeks for water, and doth miss 
Her £ace, her toogoe, her wit, so fair, so sweet, so sharp 
Hesperia the Grecians call the place . 
He that his mirth hath lost 
He that his mirth hath lost 
How happr is he bom and tanght 

I juB that Dido which tbon here dost see 

If all the world and love wen voong . 

If all this world had no original 

If a Phoenician bom I am, what then ? 

If iK^eath were made for every man to bay 

If Crossos over Halys go . . 

If Cynthia be a qaeen, a princess, and snpreme 





















If friendless faith, if gailtless thought may shield . 129 

If life be time that here is lent 122 

If women could be fair, and vet not fond . . .143 
I have no wine of Gaza nor Falerna wine . . .68 
In the main sea the isle of Crete doth lie . . .71 
In vain mine eyes, in vain you waste your tears . • 56 
I sacrifice to God the beef which you adore . . .62 

J^dy, farewell, whom I in silence serve I • . .57 
Leave me, O love ! which reachest but to dust . . 1 38 
Let them bestow on every airt a limb .... 207 
Like hermit poor in pensive place obscure . . .12 
Like truthless dreams, so are my joj's expired . .13 

Man*8life*satrap^edy; his mother's womb . . .120 
Many by valour have deserved renown . . .72 
Many desire, but few or none deserve . . .14 

Methought I saw the grave where Laura lay . . 8 
More holy than the rest, and understanding more . 59 

My body in the walls captived 31 

My days' delights, my spring-time joys fordone . .51 

My dear and only love, I pray 203 

My lute, awake I perform the last . . . .125 

My mind to me a kingdom is 149 

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares . • .114 

My soul, exalt the Lord with hymns of praise . .102 
My wanton Muse, that whilome wont to sing • .179 

Nine furlongs stretched lies Tityns, who for his wicked 

deeds 69 

Noble, lovely, virtuous creature 88 

No man was betternor more just than he . • .67 
Kor southern heat nor northern snow • . . .73 

O faithless world, and thy most faithless part . .87 

Of many now that sound with hope's consort . .183 

Of yew the ItursBans' bows were made • . .68 

O had truth power, the guiltless could not fall . . 52 

One fire than other burns more forcibly • . . /5 

O Thou great Power ! in whom I move • • .105 

O Thou, who all things hast of nothing made . .188 

Our graver Muse from her long dream awakes . .187 

Over the Medes and light Sabteans reigns . • 74 

O wasteful riot, never well content . . . • 61 





Piiuions are likened best to floodfl and streams . • 20 

Phcenicians first, if fame may credit have . • .68 

Praised be Diana's fair and harmless light . . .77 

Prometheus when first from heaven high . . .151 

Qaivering fears, heart-tearing cares • . . .106 

Rise, my soul! with thy desires to heaven . .116 

Rouse up thyself, my gentle Muse . . . .99 

Saturn descending from the heavens high . . . 65 

Saturn to be the fatter is not known . . , .63 

Saviour of mankind, Man, Emmanuel • . . .191 

Seldom the villain, though much haste he make . . 74 

Semiramis with walls of brick the city did enclose . 66 

Shall I, like an hermit, dwell 82 

Shepherd, what's love, I pray thee tell ? . . .78 

Silence in truth would speak my sorrow best . . 96 

Some old Auruncans, I remember well . . .71 
Strong Ilion thou shalt see with walls and towers high 70 

Such as like heaVenly wights do come • . .73 

Sufficeth it to you, my joys interred . • . .32 

Sweet Benjamin, since thou art young . . .121 

Sweet violets. Love's Paradise, that spread . . .174 

Sweet were the joys that both might like and last . 76 

Sweet were the sauce would please each kind of taste . 3 


The Amazon with crescent-formed shield • 
The ancients called me Chaos ; my great years 
The Arcadians the earth inhabited 
The brazen tower, with doors close barred . 
The Cbalybes plough not their barren soil . 
The Cretans ever liars were; they care not what 


The doubt of future foes .... 

The East wind with Aurora hath abiding . 

The Egyptians think it sin to root up or to bite 

The first of all is God, and the same last is He 

The foe to the stomach and the word of disgrace 

The giants did advance their wicked hand . 

The greatest kings do least command content 

The heaven and earth and all the liquid main 

The higher that the cedar tree unto the heavens doth 






The joyfal spring did ever last, and Zephyms did breed 61 
The laboarinfi: man that tills the fertile soil . . 145 

The man of life upright, whose guiltless heart is ftee .119 
The man whose thoughts against him do conspire . 1 53 
The minds of men are ever so affected . . .74 

The moistened osier of the hoary willow . . .65 
Then came the Ausonian bands and the Sicanian tribes 65 
Then marking this my sacred speech, but truly lend . 64 
The plants and trees made poor and old • . .60 
The praise of meaner wits this work like profit brings . 9 
The queen anon commands the weighty bowl . . 68 
There is a land which Greeks Hesperia name . . . 73 

There is none, none, but you 176 

The sun may set and rise 60 

The thirsting Tantalus doth catch at streams that from 

him flee 69 

The ways on earth have paths and turnings known ' .177 
The white dove is for holy held in Syria Palestine . 69 
The word of denial and the letter of fifty . . .55 
The world discerns itself, while I the world behold . 58 
The world's a bubble, and the life of man . . .117 
The worst is told ; the best is hid . . . .121 
Things thus agreed, Titan made Saturn swear . . 63 
Though CflBsar's paragon I cannot be . . . . 206 
Three things there be that prosper all apace . .13 

Thy flower of youth is with a north wind blasted .115 

To praise thy life or wail thy worthy death . . 5 

Troublous seas my soul surround . . ., .139 
Tyrus knew first how ships might use the wind .' . 65 

Unhappy is the man 205 

Untimely fever, rude insulting guest . . . * 94 

We fear by light, as children in the dark . . .67 
Were I a king, I could command content • . .147 
Wert thou a king, yet not command content . .147 
What is our life? The play of passion . . .29 

When all is done and said 132 

Whence comes my love ? heart, disclose ! . .135 
When Hook back, and in myself behold . . .133 

While fury gallops on the way 59 

Whiles I admire thy first and second wa3's . . .83 
Whilst my soul's eye beheld no light . . . .111 
Who grace for zenith had 166 


Who rules the duller earth, the wind-swollen streams . 72 
Who would have thought there could have been • .112 
Why, pilgrim, dost thou^ stray ..... 184 
With how sad steps, O moon, thou climb*st the skies! 137 
With wisdom's eyes had but blind fortune seen • . 56 
Wrong not, sweet empress of my heart . . '20 

Tef , though thou fetch thy pedigree so far • . 74 
You meaner beauties of the night . . . .95 
You that on stars do look 98 



Bacon, Francis, Lord. Part ii. Nos. xxii. xxiii. 

Brooke, Fulkb Greville, Lord. Fart in. No. xxi. 

Brooke, Samuel, D.D. Part ii. No. xix. 

Charles I., Kino. Fart in. No. xxxvii. 

Dyer, Sir Edward. Fart iii. Nos. xvi. xvii. xviii. xix. ; 

with list of his other Poems among the Notes, p. 243. 
Elizabeth, Queen. Part in. No. viii. 
Essex, Robert, Earl of. Part in. Nos. xxiv. xxv, 

xxvi. ; with list of his other Poems among the Notes, 

p. 248. 
Gorges, Sir Arthur. Part in. No. xxx. See also p. 

ITartngton, John. -Part iiL Nos. vi. (doubtful) vii. 
Heywood, John. Part in. No. ii. (very doubtful.) 
Heywood, Thomas. Part i. No. xxvii. (very doubtful.) 
HosKiNs, John. Part n. Noa. ii. (in part), xxv. 
lIuNNis, William. Part i. No. xxv. (doubtful.) Part in. 

No. iv. (doubtful.) 
James L, Kino. Part in No. xxix. 
JoNSON, Ben. Part n. No. xi. (an erroneous claim.) 

Part in. No. xxxii. 
L' Estrange, Sir Roger. Part in. No. xxx viii. 
Lodge, Thomas. Part in. No. xxii. 
M., F. Part in. No. xv. 3. 
Marlowe, Christopher. Part l No. vi. 1. 


Montrose, James, Marquis of. Part. iii. Nos. xxxix. 

xl. xli. ; with list of his other Poems among the Notes, 

p. 252. 
Oxford, Edward, Earl of. Part in. Nos. xi. xii. xiii. 

xiv. XV. 1 ; with list of his other Poems among the 

Notes, p. 241. 
Pembroke, Mart, Ck>UKTEss of. Part in. No. x. 
Raleigh, Sir Walter. All Part i., except No. vi. 1. 

But Nos. XXV. xxvi. xxvii. xxviii. xxix. and xxx. are 

doubtful. The following also have been assigned to 

him, though on insufiEicient evidence: Part ii. Nos 

iv. xvi. xvii. xviii. xx. 1. xxi. xxiv. 1. Part iii. Nos. 

xxiii. xxviii. See also Appendix to the Introduction, B. 
Rociiford, Viscount. Part in. No. i. (doubtful.) 
S., E. Part I. No. xxv. (doubtful.) 
Sandys, George. Part in. Nos. xxxiii. xxxiv. xxxy. 
Sidney, Sir Philip. Part in. Nos. ix. xv. 2, xvii. 2. 
Southwell, Robert. Part in. No. xx. 
Ttchbourne, Chidiock. Part n. No. xx. 1. 
Uncertain or Unknown (besides other poems in this list 

marked *' doubtful.") Part n. Nos. xvi. xvii. xviii. xx. 

2, xxi. xxiv. Part in. Nos. ii. xv. 4, xxiii. xxxi. xxxvi. 
Yaux, Thomas, Lord. Part in. Nos. iii. iv. (doubtful), 

V. vi. (doubtful); with list of his Poems among the 

Notes, p. 238. 
W., A. Part in. Nos. xxvii. xxviii. 
Wotton, Sir Henry. Part ii. Nos. i. ii. (in part), iii. 

iv. V. vi. ?ii. viii. ix. x. xi. xii. xiii. xiv. xv. and 

perhaps also Nos. xvi. and xvii. 
Wyatt, Sir Thomas. Part in. No. i. (doubtful.) 



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